Within Soul
by Eden's Epitaph
Summary: Chap 9 up (AUSet during the Bakumatsu)Lemon Waring He was not meant to live, to survive, he took what was not his. She was not meant to be there, chasing the shadow of a dead man. United in a bloody era, they both held the secret of sanity.
1. Prologue

Author's note: I think that I finally found MY idea for a Rurouni Kenshin fic. At least, I hope so. My previous fanfiction on the same anime was quite a flop if I can use the expression. I had no idea where i was going, had no plot line in mind, only a few idea for character's past and things like that. And, something that didn't helped me at all, I had created an original character.... the mistake not to make when you are writing a fanfic. I mean, you can create one, but you have to make sure that this character really blend in with the personalities of the other characters. In simple terms, a good guy is harder to make that a bad guy cause bad guys are always needed but not the good guy. I think their's already plenty of characters in Rurouni Kenshin for me to use, their's no place into creating a new one. But that's my opinion. So, anyway, all I'm really asking of you guys is to be indulgent on me because: 1. English is not my first language, thus there's bound to be many mistakes. 2. My computer's dictionary is out of order (have to ask my uncle to get working into that matter). 3. My editor, or proof reader, don't know how you call them, is out into a trip to NY... lucky girl.... So... yeah, there will be much more mistakes than there would usualy be. And for that I'm so very sorry. As for other note, I decided to use only the name realated sufix of the japanies language because, first, I'm not very used and frendly with jap, and second, I think that the sufix (dono, san, sama, etc,) are all you really need to figure things out. Ok, now enough with my stupid babling, who read it anyway...?(makes me wonder some times, even I pass over them when I'm not in the mood)

Warnings: This story may contain fluff, waff(said MAY) will be full of violance, some explicite language, adult containt so I highly suggest that if you don't like any of the aboved mationed, just don't read. You have been dully warned.

Disclaimeres: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, though I would love to get my hand on the 5 remaining manga that I have yet to buy, but I'm so short on money. You see, i just moved out of my parent's house and need to pay the bills, and i'm still into studies... think you know where I'm leading. Don't sue me!

Within the Soul

**By Evil Karyta**

**Prologue**

_The key to greatness it to really be what we seem to be._

_ Socrate_

  The shivering of dancing shadows, like a waltz that should never be seen, played its undead magnificence in the back of minds. Like the music one would listen while driving along the roads for some times, not hearing it until one song hit the music cord of one's mind and realise that one had been listening to the radio all that time. But this went much farther than a simple lost of space and time, it also contained the mind in its downfall, reaching toward the dark holes of madness, caging what was left of the senses into a fury of stimulation and sensations. The shadows were playing, crawling, multiplying, like snakes ready to strike the tiny and defenceless mice agonising in the painful wake of the poison injected into their lithe and so very small bodies. It was death, simple and horrible, sweat and horrifying. It was evil, devouring what should be given, taking what was not his and feasting upon the purity that they craved for so long.

  There was complete silence, overwhelming, almost deafening, and sending waves of painful shivers down the spine. The shadow slowly retreating as the lights, which give them birth, died. There was a light thud, not so far away, amid the plants and trees, the sound of someone hitting the ground, like a dead weight. A delicate hand rolled out of the bushes, that of a woman, long white fingers, graceful in their immobility, an open palm directed to the sky, as if offering something to those whom needed or just wanted it. A rustling quaked the leaves, gentle as the wind's caress. A soft cry, frustrated, confused, horrified, rose from the bushes, a blow was delivered to the ground by a raging foot, lone outtake of a enrage mind. The hand trembled, as if taken over by some sort of spasms and settled into torpidly again, never to be moved.

  Something dripped down the length of the hand, pearling at the tips of the fingers and falling rapidly to the dirt in big red drops, pooling and slowly snaking down the small hill in the snaky way a river would, only much smaller. A set of golden eyes, bright in the night, fix on the hand, as if mesmerised by the sight of blood, attached to a face that was neither pale nor tanned adorned by a fair mane of red hair a tad bit tousled. The delicate yet strong features of a man, looking young yet so old, eyes burning a hole into the face of a dead woman, clothes torn, eyes discoloured, opened wide toward the sky and its glowing stars. A slit, right under her chin, still expelling what was left of her life fluids.

  The man rose to his feet, bright amber eyes still unwavering from the still form of the corps at his feet, his head shaking in self affliction and a feeling akin to shame shadowing the handsome lines of his face. Fate has once again chosen the most righteous to die and the unworthy to live by that death. He knew that there would be no way out of it, he knew he could never hind from it, but gods… he tried so hard. In the back of his head, as his eyes slowly swirled and changed colour, he could hear the nagging voice, telling him once again how helpless he was. The short red head tightened the grip his right hand held on an old katana that seemed to have seen more than one war. Eyes flashing in between golden and shining violet, narrowing as he registered just the expand of his deed, understanding that, yet once again, he did not escaped from the fatality of his life. 

  The man took a few steps backward, the sharp tip of his sword gazing the ground, one last look at the body and he turned his back to it, walking away toward the life of the early evening town's streets. Just as his head emerged from the foliage, he heard a low chuckle, which made him growl and turn his attention to his left, eyes flaring with anger. Out of darkness, another man, far taller than the first, stepped out to the clearer aria. A cigarette burning slowly in between the fingers of his right hand, the suffocating smoke that created the death-giving drug hurting the red head eyes. The new comer gave him a small mocking smile, closer to a smirk than anything else and tossed the cigarette aside to be lost into the greens of the forest. 

"I knew that you wouldn't resist that long…" the tone of mockery in the tall man's voice reached the borderline of being cruel. 

"After all, you're just like every one, you can't starve to death, even if it is your wish."

"Mind you're own business and let me be," threatened the small man, eyes narrowing and golden iris menacing.

"I've always told you, you can't fight what you are."

  The small red headed man looked down at the corpse, eyes burning in self-affliction, wishing for something, someone to end the circle and than stared up at the sky. It seemed to him that those stares, shining above him, glowing within the emptiness of the heavens, were accusing him. With a sigh, he turned his back completely to the tall man and started to take his leave but stopped after a few short footsteps. Turning only his head to the man's direction he opened his mouth, his voice hoarse with emotion he could barely control. 

"Tell me, Saitou, how can you live on knowing that you destroyed so many on your way?"

"Humph, you live, that's all."

"That's what I thought, you take their lives and soul, but you never care about them do you?" continued the red head, restarting his walk.

"You should never care when you are living our lives, and you know it."

"Than explain why you take as long as I do to choose the next one…"

  And with that he was gone, not waiting for an answer, knowing very well that the man would never tell him. He shook his head and exited the bushes, returning to the town he had left a few hours ago, his feet hitting the dry dirt, lifting small clouds of dust on his way. The soft wind of late summer touched his face, gentle and forgiving and yet he would not give into it. He had searched throughout all of his life for a way toward redemption and yet, it seemed that nothing wanted to accuse him of any deeds. The wind still smelled the same sweet fragrance of the sleeping sakura, water tasted the same, earth hold him as always and fire still burned and produced light. 

  Turning a corner, he stepped into a trail flooding with people. The autumn festival seemed to keep those beings out of their houses for longer than would usually be in such a fresh weather, slowly fading from the warmth of summer sun into the frost of winter. He used to love those celebrations, enjoying this out burst of vitality and letting go of every pressure of the passed year but today, and for the many decades before now, it no longer brought out the same light. It always made resurface so much painful memories that he rather sleep all the way through it so he could keep what was left of his sanity safe, if only for one more year. 

  As he walked, not really looking where his feet were leading or in which direction his body was going, he seemed to drown further down into the depth of his questionings and memories. One would say that he was too warped up in his thoughts, other would call it being blind or out of one's mind, or simply to spaced off to keep attention to the road. Whatever you called it, this was the cause of a painful face to face with a person and than the ground. There was a small yelp and a loud crash as baskets, bags and the articles that laid within the bags and baskets -that now had been spieled on the floor- flow around him and a body crashed into his, forcing him to once again give into gravity and meet the very hard and awaking ground.

  A feminine voice mumbled curses under her breath just barely above him. A curtain of raven, shining black hairs fell over his face. The feel of it soft and silky. Than there was pain as a elbow pressed his side until it could almost touch the ground through him, cutting the wind out of his lungs and made him grunt in a vain attempt to blow out the pain. Which, unfortunately, did not work as much as he wished to, and only caused more pain to come as a knee hit his leg very hard. And than there was silence and stillness when the black curtain was lift to meet with two, shining- and very angry- saphire blue eyes. Suddenly realisation sprang to the blue pools and the body was withdrawn for his. Silk flow abouts as the long sleves of a kimono followed the rushed motion of the person wearing it. The man sat up and looked around only understanding now what had just 'fallen' on him again. 

"My apologies. I was not looking where I was going, that i was not," he very politely excused his behaviour after a few short moment of silence.

"Tell me about it!" she exclaimed remembering that she was supposed to be angry, not stunned by a set of violet orbs.

"Here, let me help you miss," he said going to his feet and extending an helping hand toward the girl who still sat on the ground.

"It's the least you can do," she breathed eyes widening when she saw the expand of the catastrophe. "Oh no! All my food… Oh no!"

  She crawled, on hand and knees, in a hurry toward on of the bags that had landed a few feet away from them. It was damped, and somewhate slipery and there could be seen some pieces of brown scatted not so far from it. 

"This!" she yelled pointing to the mess. "Is all your fault and you will pay for it!"

"I beg your pardon?" asked the red head in complete confusion.

"You runed my toffu and all of my so hardly payed food! Ah... even the basket of rice got opened!"

  The lest one could say was that this raven girl had one very energetic and somewhat explosive character. Still on her four, she was trying to retrive what could be save of the rice, giving up on the toffu, and looking for some warped items that had fell off one of the bags. The girl did not even seem to mind the fact that her kimono was actually completely ruined by now, rubing in the dirt of the street like it did, there was no chance the soft material could be saved. 

"Well? Will you help or not?" she asked irritaded. 

"Of... of course," and with that he bent down and started to get all the food that could be saved back into the baskets and bags, not that there was much. "Um... may I ask just why you caried all of these alone?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"..." he stared at her for a few moments and heard her sigh.

"I don't have anyone to cary it at my place. They're to stupid to understand that food can't come to them all alone," she shook her head saying this.

"Who?"

  She did not answered, simply kept collecting her stuff. He took it as a sign not to inquired futher into that matter. Finally, every bit of eatables that could be saved were back in place, quite missed up for the least, but back in place all the same. The girl got back to her feet, dusted hersefl up and attemped to take the bags and baskets back from the stranger. He made no mouvement as to return them and she stared at him for quite sometime before speaking, her voice raging thunder as if she was about to burst –witch was quite possible judging the spirit that inhabitted her.

"You know, I can't take these home if you still hold them," she spoke matter of factly.

"I was about to propose to you if I could help you cary those back to your home, that i was," he said his tone very polite even through the storm of her anger and harsh language.

"No thanks. One catastrophe is one too much for the day. I'll do it myself."

"But it seems like a heavy burden for a girl alone to cary..." trailed the small man.

"Are you assuming that I don't have the strangth to cary them?" the glitter of fire almost scared him.

"N-no! I was not saying that, that i was not. I was just offering help, only a hand," he blured out fearing a repeated show of her outburst.

"I assure you that it is not needed, but thank you for helping me picking everything up."

  With that said, she took her belongings form him, gave him a faint smile and turned on her heels, walking away, bags and baskest safely sittled over her arms and shoulders. He watched the raven haired girl with a surprised expression on his face, she seem to have no trouble walking with her loading. He shook his head, readjusted his sword that had somehow taken some loose around his waist from the comotion and turned around to also take his leave when his eyes spoted a blue ribon that had been discarted on the ground. He crouched down to retrive the piece of fine fabrick and got to his feet quikly, spuning around to call after the girl who he thought was the owner of the hair bounding item. But she was gone and he had no idea as to where she might have gone to. 

  He shruged and stuffed the blue silk into his gi and walked off. In his mind, the episode of the dieing woman was almost gone, covered by the incident with the spirited young girl. This steared an almost guenuine smile to his face. But soon, he reminded himself that he had no right to feel joyful for he had cause death and displease to two young person yet again and in the expand of a few minutes. He would be happy the day he would get rid of his condition, which meat, the day he would meet the one who would be his downfall. It was as if asking one the Kami to show himself before the mortals and clame the truth of their existences.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  There was some loud footsteps sound comming from the outside, hitting the wooden floor of the balcony just outside. In the room, three woman and a man were working in silence until the noise disturbed them from their task. The man stood up and put a hand to the hilt of his sword, ready to slay whoever would enter the door if that person were to be no good. The shoji door slid softly, almost agonizingly slowly and the frame of a very loaded girl apeared before their eyes. There was a comon sigh from the four occupant of the room as they recognized the person and returned to their work. 

"It took you longuer that usual," said a rather aged woman that was busing herself with a fire over which a pot what heating.

"I bumped into a morron who didn't look where he was going," came the rather frustrated explaintion.

  There was a few indulgent laughter amoug the occupants and the man only sigh and turn on his heels to exit the room through the door on the opposite side of the one the girl had used to enter. Feeling a bit exhausted, she dumped her groceries on the table un the middle of the room and let her tired body fall into a neerby chair. She passed a hand through her hair and than froze. She reached for the back of her head and found that her fears had, indeed, been true. She mumbled a few unlady like curses, a few hitting the ears of the other women of her surrounding and stearing a few indignanted yelp from the older one and small knowing giggles from the two others.

"This just ain't my day," grumeled the girl.

"What's the matter?" asked one of the women who were slicing vegetables not to far from the first one.

"I lost my ribon...." she lamely mumbled sounding like a child who lost their favorit toy.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you have plenty of those," southed the last one rolling rice balls.

"But it was my favorit one!" 

"It's just a piece of fabric, there is no importance in such things!" scoled the older one, the two others nodding their heads in agreement.

  Sighing and knowing very well that there was no way she could win such an argument with those woman, the girl got to her feet and exited the kitchen by the same door the man had used earlier. She had only one thing in mind, getting to her room and get some rest before dinner, or else, she thought she would colapse. She had been running all day trying to fill the list that the carring yet tyranic elders of the kitchen had asked her to retrive. It would not have been that bad if she would have someone to lend her a hand, but every one who could found an excuse, pretending having much more important duties to take care of than the groceries. 

  Damn them all, if it were not of her, those lasy good for nothing samurai would have nothing to eat, the least they could do was helping her bring it back. Yes, she still could wish to find someone kind enough. And if it was not enough, that stupid airhead had crashed into her almost rendering all of her hard work into smithering, figuratively speaking of course. But if look could burn, hers would have lite fire every where she looked at that moment and still would for the anger that still boiled deeply within her. 

  Warped up in her thoughts, she turned a corner and, by some strange irony of fate, crashed yet another time into someone. This time, she was the one who was set flying backward, falling very hard on her behind with a loud 'thud'. She moaned in pain, cursing her luck and lift her eyes to accuse the one who had the bad luck of disturbing her returning to her room but her voice cut short in her throught as her eyes met with purple pools looking just as surprised as she was. 

"You again!" came the rather loud repley.

"I'm so verry sorry..." he was cut short into his apoligistic speach when his sight registered just who he had fell again onto. 

"My, it seems that you have a strange habit to crash twice into strangers, miss, that you have."

"Oh please," she muttered taking his offered hand and returning to her feet. "I think its you that has the strange habitude."

  The red head smiled down at the girl. Yes, she was quite the spirited one. She stomped her foot ungracefully, cursing the gods and fate that seemed to have taken a liking into troubleling her as she started to stumble away, not intending to hear the last of what he had to say. A very amusing sight in his point of view.

"May I ask your name, so the next time we, um, see each other, I would have a name to apologies to instead of a simple figure?"

  She turned her head toward him, halting in her quickening pace to finaly reach her room. She seemed to be thinking over the question and than gave him a indulgent smile, as if she just found what was funny into the situation and finally spoke, laughter in her voice, anger long forgotten.

"I'm Kamiya Kaoru."

"Himura Kenshin," he said bowing politely. "It's been a pleasure to see you again, Kaoru-dono and I really hope that the next time we meat, it would be less painful."

"You're not the only one, Himura-san," she humored bowing in return.

"Kamiya-san, so I see you have meat our new recuit. I hope she did not got to harsh on you Himura," said a voice from behind Kaoru.

"Not too harsh, Katsura-dono."

  Kenshin offered the girl a gentle smile and than set of to follow Kogoro Katsura who had motioned him to come his way. He was half way gone down the corridore when he remembered something and turned around on his way. He took out the piece of cloth he had found on the street and interpelled the blue eyed.

"Kaoru-dono, I believe this is yours."

"My ribbon!" she exclaime taking the handed fabric and hugging it to herself. "Thank you, Himura-san. I thought that I had lost if for good."

  The short man only nodded and left. This had been quite an eventfull afternoon, and somehow, he believed it was mearly just the bigining of it all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued... ... ..._

_a/n: _Don't ask me what happed to the last RK fic i wrote if you got to read it, it's gone. I delieted it because I didn't had enough respond to it. Maybe it's because i'm used of the great popularity of my CCS fics (witch is now a phase that has long passed away from me), but it just was not satisfying for me. I really hope this one is going to make it through. But, I won't get my hopes too high. But please, tell me what you think of it. Flame me if you must, but review ( i have a very good flame proof barrier ^-^) Just click the bouton, it's only a matter of a few second. And a review can be the little thing that makes i writer's worst day into the most beautiful one.


	2. Chapter One

Author's note: So very tired. You should see the bags under my eyes, it's priceless. I've been working hard on this chapter, and the last two parts of it took me a whole 4 hour to squish out of my brain. It's in those times that I wish I still had my old chair, but it's too big for this tiny room in which I'm forced to live until I finally get enough money to get myself an nice apartment. I want to thank here all of my reviewers (who were only 6 when I last checked). Thank you very much. I must say that I'm quite pleased with the response I'm getting from this. 6 reviews was the number I had gotten after 3 chapters of the last one. I'm a really excited, though I may sound sarcastic, but that's only because my head is heavy with fatigue. So, I wish to explain a few things. Here I'm exploring a side of Battousai that not many had seen, the soft, though passionate, and very cold Battousai. I had to look very often in my manga to grasp the essence of the character. He is very hard to deal with. He threaten life when he is angered, but very sweet and companionate in other times. Also, I realise, although a bit late, that Kenshin did not smile when he was in Battousai mode as you like to call it. But he did soften when he was with Tomoe (no, she won't be there, at least I don't think she will, and if she is, she's already dead). I believe that Kaoru has this power with people, this thing in her that makes them forget that they are supposed to be sad. And yes, I see her as an energetic woman not to be taken by surprise. In all, a kind hearted fighter, facing pain with optimism. That is all, you can read now.

Warning: I'd say that there is some fluff… or WAFF, cause I'm not sure which of the two apply to it. Still have some difficulties telling which one is which. There is violence, though I don't think it justifies a raise of rating, so it's still rated PG-13, but just in case, I want to warn you that that part is not recommended four young children. Actually, this whole story deals with lots of things that children would not understand. Anyway.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't have any rights on Rurouni Kenshin and its characters. Too bad… he, he.

**Within Soul**

_By Evil Karyta_

**_Chapter One_**

_As Memory may be paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape._

- John Lancaster Spalding 

"I've heard that since you came, you didn't show yourself very often," said Katsura.

"You didn't ask me to come to blend into your troops. I was asked to be shadow, I am shadow," answered Kenshin in a very calm voice.

  The black haired man smiled. Indeed, he did what he was asked, made himself as silent as the wind. He was perfect to be what he had recruited him for. However, and that was the reason of this meeting, was he mentally prepared for the horror he would have to bare? The red head seemed very young, not older than 16, very delicate and tiny in structure.  Nevertheless, Katsura had seen his power, knew that the built of one man did not gave away the strength of his techniques, and Kenshin was the best example of hidden power that he had ever seen. Still, he was mysterious, silent and, most of the time, smiling. A very secretive smile, as if he kept something hidden deep within him. He may be looking youthful, but this appearance had nothing to do with his maturity. No, Himura Kenshin had been the best acquisition Ishin Shishi had in ages. 

  The small samurai sat in front of the head lead of the patriots, sipping tea and waiting for the questions he knew he had been sent for to answer. He felt like an exposed portrait that no one could understand and kept watching in hope to finally make sense out of the lines that were displayed in strange colors and forms, but to no avail. Himura was mystery, shadow and silence. In every way, the perfect assassin, as if he had been created to kill. Moreover, in some sick way, it in was part the truth of his sad life, although hidden to everyone. Thinking this, Kenshin bent his head, looking at the reflection of his purple eyes in the liquid swirling inside his cup. A strange color, no one ever really saw someone with such intriguing eyes, or hairs that accompanied so well the rain of the blood when a sword would cut life in two, dividing the flesh with its deadly blade. 

  The small man closed his eyes, uttering a quiet sigh, the air escaping his parted lips. A soft wind penetrated the small room through a window left ajar, circling the men, lifting a few papers that had been neglect on the floor covered of tatamis. Before him, was a low table where the teakettle and the cups had been left for them to refill if they wished to. He did not like it, being serve and taken care. Kenshin had always been self-efficient, lone in a world where he should not even be. This was his reality, a life full of self-reproaches and murders, and he could try with all his might, but he would always stay the same…

"You understand why you were taken, don't you?" Katsura interrupted his trails of thinking.

"Yes," he said looking up.

"And you are strong enough to deal with it?"

"If in exchange of my bloody blade and the sacrifice of lives I can help to establish a new era and give something back for all I had to taken…" his eyes were speaking as much as his words.

  The lead of Choshou's patriots looked at the red head, eyes understanding. He may look young, his new hittokiri, but he had faced much and his techniques were much needed in a time where people tended to lose faith. Kogoro nodded his head, a silent sign for Kenshin's dismissal. Himura got to his feet, leaving his half-empty cup on the table; he bowed in respect and left the room, closing the shoji doors behind him. The man left alone stared at the door and shook his head, so many sacrifices for the build of a new era, so many wars to create peace, so many deaths for the prosperity of the future. A voice from behind him broke his train of thoughts.

"Why did you take someone this young for your new shadow killer? If you need so desperately new assassins, why don't you do it yourself?"

"One must not give too much importance to the appearance Shinsaku. I'd like to do it myself, but I'm the leader of the patriots," explained the man.

"I see, so you want to stay the 'clean' head of those who want to change things… Whatever happens, never again should you draw your sword," Takasugi Shinsaku's words were full of sarcasm.

"Yes, today is the death anniversary of Kogoro Katsura, the sword's expert."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Kenshin was walking down the quiet corridors of the inn, quite slowly compared to his usual pace. He rarely ever came out of his room since he had established home in this disguised base for the Ishin Shishi. Being secluded and silent by nature, he did not enjoyed the company of the other samurais, either too loud or asking too much questions for his own taste. The only person he saw, and it was rarely, was this young and lively girl, Kaoru Kamiya. Yet, their exchange always ended in a rude manner, most likely with her shouting a few insults before she exited the room, stumping loudly, fuming about something he said or she did. As he had first thought of her, she was a spirited young woman, full of life and determination. However, the reason why she was here, in Kyoto, working hard and still almost failing in all the chores she was given was out of his comprehension. 

  Thinking this, he passed before an open door leading to the gardens of the inn. He would have passed without giving it much attention if not for the noises of a highly frustrated voice, mumbling curses after curses, and the loud splashes of water. Curious, he passed his head through the opening and saw a woman kneeled in front of a basin of soapy water, her cheery yellow kimono, conflicting with the very upset mood that she emanated, soaked and water was being spatter around her in big pearly and shining drops. A very amusing picture for the quite observer who now had a hard time to contain his laughter. 

  Kamiya Kaoru, the energetic young 'servant' was doing laundry, and from the frustrated look on her face, it was far from her favourite pass time. She was beating the living breath out of a poor innocent hakama, muttering under her breath in a very rude manner, accusing the piece of clothing of all the deeds of the world. As if such allegations would render the chore less painful to her and faster dealt with. If only she had some qualities as a cook, she would not be here, swearing and sweating over a stupid warrior's pants!

"Argh! Damn it! Why can't they do it themselves! Their grown up men for all I know! Can't they wash their own goddamn clothes?"

  Her outburst resonated through the entire garden, scaring the few birds that were hidden in the branches of the tall trees surrounding the square of grass and plants. She sighed in exasperation, splashing some more water around her. Her face was wet and red in irritation, returning to her task with as much vigour as she could utter from her small frame. Behind her, Kenshin could no longer hold the fits of hilarity that had over taken his body, quaking his shoulder and now bursting through his mouth in fine, sincere laughter. His life, until now, had always been one of seriousness and false smiles, but for some strange reason, this one tiny girl could steer through him a joy that he had never experienced before. And as much as he thought it wrong for him to enjoy it, he could not help feeling good. 

  So caught up in his mirth he never saw the venomous glare Kaoru sent him, nor did he saw the very wet and heavy hakama that had been threw at him. With a big, wet and splat sound, it hit his face; silencing him right away and making him take a few steps backward, almost completely loosing his balance. The water oozed from the damp clothe and drenched his face, hair and gi. The poor man fought hard to get the offending white pants away from his face for it had tightly tangled itself around his head like the vice grip of an eagle's claw, only less painful. This sight of the prone samurai, wet from head to waist, debating himself with a mere hakama made the young woman laugh. She had turned the tables around and from the laughed at, she became the laugher. 

  The shear joy exhaling from her sang in clear and, in some way, cute glee. When he finally got rid of his inert attacker, the wet swordsman saw soaking Kaoru, her right arm parallel to the ground, her fine finger pointing at him, eyes half close, her left arm holding her stomach to prevent the ach that always came when one would laugh too hard. In other occasion, he would have stare angrily at her and threaten her life, no one dared to make fun of him, but to see the joy that lit her blue eyes completely took this option out of his mind. He simply tossed it back at her, watching the girl as she took it back and return to her washing duty. 

  Kenshin could still see her shoulders wavering; last remain of the moment of merriment that they shared. Unfortunately, it was soon all over and she was back into punishing the hakama for being there for her to wash. The red head chuckled, shaking his head, flaming red locks flying about him in his movement. He slowly walked toward her, peering over her shoulder so he could see just how harshly she was treating the annoying piece of clothing.

"I didn't know that you also made laundry. Remind me not to ask you to wash my clothes…" he teased.

"Humph," she grunted. "I'm not doing it so you can have fun watching me!"

"I never said that, that I did not."

"No, but you were thinking it."

  So, she could read minds too. He bent over her shoulder some more, so he could see more clearly, what lay within the washing basin. Between the bubbles and the waves her movement created, he could make out the silhouette of a few more hakama, some gi and kimonos and two or three yakutas. This was quite a large amount of clothes to wash and in a way, he could understand her frustration. 

"If you don't like it, why don't you ask someone else to do it?"

  He could see the faint blush appear on her pale face as if she was ashamed of something. Stopping her fight with the pants, she passed the back of her forearm over her forehead, cleaning the sweat away from it and leaving a line of water in replacement. It shown in the bright light of the sun, making her skin glitter quite prettily. He ignored the feelings that sprang from his stomach and looked away, waiting for her answer.

"I… I'm not much of a housekeeper… I'm a bit clumsy and… a very poor cook… it seems that cleaning those clothes and shopping is all those ladies would let me do," the embarrassment was clearly herd in her voice, "that… and the room service."

  Kenshin eyed her back as she returned to her task with less fervour that before. Her last statement seemed to have taken away all of her energy, or maybe it was the humiliation that she felt into admitting her flaws that took it way. After a few moments, she changed from the hakama and turned her attention to a gi, which, to her desperation, was stained in many places with food and, on other spots, blood. She growled when she realised that those blots would not go if she did not put more force into her scrubbing. Therefore, she started again, rubbing the clothe with almost insane determination, splattering water around, even splashing Kenshin a few times in the face.

"You know, Kaoru-dono, if you keep torturing this gi as you do, you'll soon make a hole in it, that you will," he uttered mischievously.

"Quit making fun of me already!" she yelled turning her head in his direction to realise that he was much closer than she first assumed.

"I'm not!"

"Tell that to someone else!" exclaimed the girl pushing him away from her.

"Hey!" he had almost lost his balance, almost.

"Serves you right for making fun of me!"

"I was not, that I wasn't," he said trying as much as he could to defend himself from her outburst.

"I don't what you to tell me how to do my things! I'm not beside you when you do whatever they asked you too, telling you how to handle your damn sword, so don't tell me how to do laundry! Besides, I'm pretty damn sure you don't even know how to wash your clothes…" the last sentence was whisper but he had heard. 

"So, I don't know how to wash?"

  She froze, he had heard, and the tone of his voice was far from reassuring. It sounded almost as if he had been defied. That, she thought, was ought to be no good sign for her. He crouched down beside her, to her right, and took the gi out of her hands. She did not dare to move, eyes glued to his precise movement, as if he had done it all of his life. She watched as the stains disappeared from the pale green fabric faster than she would have done it. Unconsciously, her blue eyes had drifted from his hands to his face. He looked as if lost in a deep concentration, his soft violet eyes following the quick movement of his hands as they washed, very expertly, the clothes. 

  She studied his features. In all their short encounters through the two weeks that had passed, she never took the time to actually look at him. If someone had asked her what Himura Kenshin looked like, she would have give the impression of being quite dumbfound and would have uttered a quick explanation of his purple eyes and red hair, but nothing more. Those two features had been the more poignant of his appearance. Now that she looked more closely, she could see that he was more than pretty eyes and strange hair colour. His face was finely cut, almost feminine but very masculine in all its beauty. It would have been perfect it if were not of that long scar that stretched from his left cheekbones to the middle of his cheek.

"How did it happen?" she asked not able to resist her curiosity.

"How what did happen, Kaoru-dono?" he said not quite understanding yet, his eyes still fix on his task.

"That scar?" she pointed his cheek.

  His left hand rose to his face and his dripping fingers touched the mark. His expression darkened, his eyes clouded, and he seemed to be lost in thoughts for some time. Dark purple eyes stared blankly into the soapy water, loosing sight of the reality as memories resurfaced. Suddenly, he shook his head, surly dismissing a thought that had come to him and resumed his cleaning, turning a smiling face toward her.

"It's a long story that I'm sure you wouldn't what to hear, Kaoru-dono, that I am."

  She stared at him mutely, only the chirping of the birds cut through the silence, having returned once the girl's eruption had ended and taking back their place in the trees. His reaction had surprised her, the look of hurt and lost that had crossed his features for a split second was far from all the expression she had imagined he would have. For all she knew of Kenshin, he was always polite and smiling, very gentle and, mostly with her, very friendly. Of course, he never came out of his room unless he needed to, not appreciating the way the other samurais spent their nights and enjoying the quiet seclusion of his room. Nevertheless, it did not explain this peculiar reaction.

"So you see, this is how you clean without damaging the fabric," he told her giving her a yakuta so she could practice what he had taught her. 

  That done, he returned to his feet and turned to leave. Kaoru was left there, flabbergast, staring at the nightwear he gave her. She turned her head in his direction, only to see his retreating back as he passed the open doors and was back in the inn. The blue gi and red hair were gone, just as he usually did everything, gently and in silence. The girl slowly returned her attention to the basin, but her mind was far away from her washing task. It was concentrated on those weird feelings, as if pass and present was colliding, a feeling of lost and safety, completely in opposition but coupling as if it were the most natural of things to do. 

  In the wooden washbasin, her dark and waving reflection stared at her. Blue eyes almost dark, so much like they were those long months ago, when her life turned around in a insane turn of event. Everything in that water mirror seemed to take her back to that miserable moment of her life. It was dark and un-grasping just as was the air and events of that fateful night, when blood had rained around her hidden form. The last gift of a man she would always greave. Kaoru felt her heart beat quicken, a clear sign of the rush of unwelcome memories that had plagued her through the night and were now claming a life in the day. 

  Frustrated, she slapped her right hand on the smooth surface of the water, destroying the vision before it was even born. The droplets flew around her in a shining drizzle, the reminder gone, but still the feeling left. With more force than she intended to, she griped the clean clothing; gis, hakamas and yakutas, put them in a basket and walked with determination to drying rope. Surely, if she worked hard, the last of the memory and feelings would subside and leave her alone, at least until dawn would come and with it, the shadow of a past she only wished she could forget.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The streets of Kyoto were in quiet darkness, the sun has finally surrendered the sky to a pale moon, hidden at certain moments with an ashen cloud as it passed over it, blown with the wind. Two men walked in silence, they could be patrolling or returning to their home. No one really cared. The rays of the lady of the night played with the shadows of the objects discarded on the road by some careless owners. No one really cared. It was night, and people were sleeping, lost in their own egoist world, taking care of what they loved and treasured, forgetting about the others and wishing war would not spread to their doors. 

  Maybe the smaller figure was escorted by the taller one to safety. No one really cared. They were just passing by, hushed and careful, knowing that danger always loomed where you less expected it. In the bars of the city, there was a rumour, murmured between swordsmen, which said that soon, blood would rain over the street of Kyoto, for a better future, for a new era. Maybe those two men were the downfall of this revolution. No one really cared. They were too preoccupied with their selfish existence to see that war was already looming at their home, and that blood was already pouring down in the darken streets.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"We should have moved faster. I have a bad feeling about this," said the tall.

"You're being paranoid," hushed the second.

"Tell me that again when we'll be safely returned, drinking sake."

"Don't you have faith in my skills?" murmured the small.

"It's not you're skills that I worry about, it's theirs."

  The shorter one only shook his head. He was being over confidant. Maybe it was because he had already killed many and did not get any bad injuries. Some would say that he had been lucky, he chose to believe it was strength. They turned a corner; soon they would reach the place they wished to be, where there was a somewhat of pretence of security. The taller raised his head and his eyes caught the sight of an overcast figure, that of a man and the fearful glow of a katana's sheath. The tall stopped dead in his track, fear covering his face, an ugly mask of horror, hateful to those who despised cowardice in all it's subtle dressings. His companion stared at him, curious and than looked up to see just what had startled him.

"You are Yamaku Shiwasuka of Edo."

"What's the meaning of all of this?" asked the smaller man taking a protective step forward, unconsciously answering the stranger's question.

"It is not personal, but understands that I must kill you."

  The voice was cold, almost devoid of life. The voice death would have, and he was death. The cloud that had veiled the moon was now disappearing, giving freedom to the soft and gloomy light, revealing the man. An old dark blue gi, a hakama torn at the bottom showing just how much battles he had been through, a katana and an aikuchi at his waist. Flaming red hair tied in a high ponytail the way all samurai did and deadly, freezing amber eyes, staring at the pair, emotionless and frightening by their silent coldness, the eyes of an assassin. 

  They had never heard of him, but they knew he had been sent for them, to destroy what they had work so hard to archive. Without further words of explanation, Kenshin sprang into action and crossed steal with the smaller man. In a matter of second, the red head had taken the upper hand of the battle, and soon, his opponent hit the dirt in a bloody bundle, dead. The tall man got out of his stupor and reached for his sword, but it was already too late. Himura was on him in an instant, shoving his katana through the helpless man's stomach. The agonising man uttered a struggled cry, his mouth filling rapidly with a hot, metallic tasting liquid. His own blood.

  He felt backward, a hand to the opened gash spilling his life out as if it was meant to flow that way. The red liquid reflecting passively the soft silvery glow of the moon as his breath and heart bet grew in intensity. The amber eyes were on him, cold, ruthless, accusing, scary. Such a pathetic way to die, surrounded by darkness and fright. Hair like the flames of hell, was he a spawn of the devil? A pale face staring at him with burning eyes. It was painful to watch. So bright and deadly. Why was there no one to come to his rescue? How he wished he had listen to his wife and stayed home that day. Kenshin was watching the man die slowly and painfully. He should make it less excruciating, should put his agony to an end. However, there was a light in those dieing eyes, the shimmer of a soul. 

  The mere sight of it awoke his hunger. Kenshin's eyes widen as if stroked by a vision, a truth revealed to him. The fading man, slowly losing his life and his consciousness, ready to leave his body for a better world, or maybe worst, yet still clogging to life in a stubborn way, the last cry of a soul, which had not yet finished its task, stared at the samurai. What were those swirling and impassive amber seeing? The pale figure descended toward him, a bloody hand reached for his collar and he was lift off the ground. The bright eyes, flaring in shades of flaming embers, stared at the pale eyes of the dieing. Was it hunger? No, it was a strange sort of crave that burst through those almost inexpressive orbs of gold. 

  Kenshin was fighting it. This crave, this hunger, he thought he would get rid of it for some more time, but his body had been awaken to it as soon as they saw the glitter of a living soul. It hurt, it hurt so much. As if the vengeful blade of those victims, to whom he had claimed their lives and existence, pierced his whole body. And he could not deny it, if he did, he was sure death would take him. He had thought he could let it overwhelm him and let his mind finally surrender into oblivion, to expel his crimes and pay for so many deaths and shattered souls. Now that he was confronted to it yet again, he could not hold back, the need was too strong, and the light of this soul was too appealing for him to simply look away. 

  It tore through them, the shear power of it, as the soul that once was the other became the propriety of the taker. There was a bright light, or maybe it was just their imagination, maybe it was darkness that had enclosed them, ripping a soul from one body to quietly settle into another. It fed Kenshin's life, it gave him power, it filled the hole that had been their since he was born to this world and it created yet another memory of someone's life been crushed, completely destroyed by his blind hunger and selfish will to live. 

  With a sickening thud, the lifeless body hit the ground once again, blood splashing around just like Kaoru had made the water fly around her earlier that day. Disgusting comparison when you think that the innocent girl was doing laundry and he was killing shamelessly. With a last look at the pathetic sight he had created he whispered a subdued;

"I'm sorry…" his voice low and soft, Kenshin turned on his heels and start to walk toward the inn.

  But for someone like him, one can't be left alone to their grieving. As he moved in the direction of the end of the road, he was met with laughter from a dark corner of the alley. It was cruel, it was accusing. He hated it, and he recognized it, although he wished he never met the owner of this hateful laugh. The moon light illuminated the pale and thin face of a tall man with long black hair styled the samurai way. A cruel snarl on his face, he weighed him up, eyes speaking louder than his mirthless chuckles. 

"Let me be," was all Himura said as he passed him up.

"Why would I? Because you're bearing the pain of yet two more deaths? I'm not like that."

"Just shut up and be gone."

  Saitou uttered, once more, the displeasing chortle, irritating in all its vindictive intention. This sent a shiver of anger through the red head samurai. He turned his head and dejected a hateful stare of cold gold, a hand on the hilt of his sword. But he was blatantly ignored as the offending man took a cigarette out of his pocket, trusted it between his lips and lit it up. The smoke hovered in the air, carried by the gentle wind of early autumn to be lost in the atmosphere. It seemed to Kenshin that the bluish smoke was mocking him, free to go wherever it wished, never bond to one thing, not needing much more than a spark of fire to exist and than vanish into emptiness in a split second. Somehow, he wished he were smoke in the wind. 

"I knew it would not take long before you choose another one. The last one was not very strong and it lacked the quality to get you going," explained Hajime.

  Kenshin remained quiet, wishing him gone and dead with each passing instants. But, of course, Saitou would not compiled to this simple request of an already submerged with guilt little man that only wanted to attain an simple existence and give something back without being constantly reminded of his inhuman nature. The truth was, life just love to torture him, toy with his mind and bring him always closer to insanity. Had they a right to live? They who were born without souls, who should have died before birth, who had never been desired nor been loved? Neither of them could answer, but only Kenshin still thought he had no place in this life. 

"You know, you shouldn't be so ashamed of yourself. In this world, nothing lasts forever, even souls. Do you think that those to whom you drew your life were still somehow existing? They all disappear within you as you draw the energy of their soul so you can still live, it would be the same if they had lived…"

  The small man was not listening anymore. He had heard the same lecture more than he wished he had. He had frozen on his way to retreat, his eyes having caught the bloody mess and the empty, colorless eyes of the man from who he had fed his life. It was a horrific sight coming straight up from hell to doom him into constant nightmares. Golden eyes, flicking slowly toward soft violet stared emptily at it. The repulsive picture of death and misery. He should not look at it, it only added to his guilt more than he could bear. In addition, Saitou was keeping his insane monologue, torturing his mind and hurting him more than a sword could in a deadly fight. 

  With an almost desperate move of anger, he leaped at the tall man, katana drawn and menacing at Saitou Hajime's throat. The deadly steal glittered in the moon light, and for once, the tall man had shut up without Kenshin's asking. They both were glaring at each other; amber met another shade of yellow, almost like those of a wolf. Hatred was burning in those four orbs of fire. The wolf's cigarette hit the dirt, burning red ashes bouncing and rolling on the matted earth.

"You better stop this madness and get the hell away from me if you don't wish to die the pathetic way human does," threatened the red head.

"Battousai," he started taking the blade between the index and thumb if his right hand pushing it away from his neck, "It is not yet our time to fight. Soon, Kyoto will have new partisans with whom, I'm sure of it, you'll have to fight. It's only then that you'll get your chance," he smirked. "For now I'll take my leave."

  Battousai… Yes, Saitou had been the one who had first called him that, referring to his fast killing technique. Now, he was sure of it, Kyoto will know of that name, and it would become the name of the Ishin Shishin's hittokiri. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  He needed a bath. Kenshin felt tired, almost drained even though he was feeling all the energy coursing through his body. He only wanted to fall on his futon and give away into his sea of nightmares or, if he was lucky, the darkness his sleep would sometimes give him. Even if it felt so appealing to simply turn to his room and rest, he desperately needed the cleaning. He was covered in red, sticky blood. He would have to wash his clothes too. Out of nowhere, a thought came to him, Kaoru should not see him like this, and she should not wash his clothing either. He would have to wait for the next night to do it if he did not want her to see it. Blinking his heavy eyelids, he wondered just why and, most importantly, how this thought occurred to him. With a light sigh, he shoved the thought away, dismissing it for later, now he only wanted a bath.

  Turning a corner, he came to the opened door of the bathing aria. Steam came out of it in hot waves of evaporated water, hitting his face, beckoning him to get in and relax into the hot and comforting water. He passed through the shoji and froze, soft violet eyes wide upon his discovery. In the middle of the bathroom, kneeling in front of a steaming basin was Kamiya Kaoru, still dressed in her cheery yellow long sleeved kimono. Having heard him, she turned her head, her long black hair, restrained in a ponytail not unlike his own, flying around her in long strings of silk. Sapphire blue met gentle amethyst, an indulgent smile 

crossed her features, somehow understanding his wariness and not engaging any verbal argument, for now. 

  The young woman got to her feet, leaving behind her a freshly cleaned yakuta, the one he had handed her this afternoon when he had taught her how to wash clothes. He did not move when she passed by him, neither did he flinch when she stopped behind him, their back almost touching. She turned her face over her shoulder, looking at him sideway.

"Clean yourself, you smell."

  The shoji was close and silence took over. Only their breathing could be heard from each side of the paper walls. That, and the faint beating of her heart, soft and relaxed. Slowly, feeling as if he was been watched, he peeled his clothes off, bloody gi and hakama pooling around his ankles on the wooden floor. For some odd reason, a blush had appeared on his face. However, he did not lose his grace as he walked to the bath, putting his sword down near it, ready to get into the appealing comfort of the hot water that seemed to have been prepared for him. Just as he was about to put a foot into it, Kaoru's soft voice came to him through the closed door.

"Is it really the right way to bring the new era? To dissipate so many lives only for a better future? Is it really the right way to built peace by piling so many corps and creating such awful memories for us to remember and be pain over the years, long after the war would end? Is the only way to bring us peace is to cause each other pain? Do you believe that Kogoro-san's right when he says that the new era will be built over the bodies of your loved one and our guilt?" their was a heaving pang of pain and lost in her voice. "Tell me Kenshin, is death the only way to archive our goal?"

  He would have answered, but he was muted by all the sorrow and pain he had heard in this young voice. It was the same words he had once said, when he thought he was normal, when he was sure nothing was wrong with him. It was the same questions, asking why he should take one life so his could go one, or the life of other could keep going. Wondering if he had the right to judge those who should die when so many should have lived. It was the same, and in a way, it was very different. His purple eyes looked at the shojis, only to see what he had thought, after asking him her questions, she had took her leave. And there he was, left with the heavy burden of a being that had, in a moment of weariness, disposed of her questionings that, surely, had kept her from sleep. Some of it now lay on his already very charged shoulders.

  Behind all those questions, he had heard her call for understanding, her plea for him to understand that he was not the only one plagued with memories that brought them to the senseless hell of fear of repetition. Fate had a sick way to reiterate the event of a painful past into a future one would had thought bright. His right hand rose to his head, unbinding his hair, letting the flaming mane cascade in long, light strands down to his back as he stepped into the water.

"Who are we to decide how peace should be attained. Humanity never lived through complete peace, and to keep this somewhat make believe of serenity, lives had to be sacrificed. I too, wish there would be another way… but I already took so much… If only death would not be my daily routine. If only they would think like you, Kaoru-dono," he whispered sinking into the hot liquid.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued… … …_

_a/n__: _On the bottom note, I only what to solicit you're contribution into review matter. Because, you see, I have this strange crave for critic and feedback. Strange thing, huh? Oh, and must I remind you not to tell me how poor my grammar and how confusing some of my choice of words can be? I'm quite feed up with it… Not that a joke about is unwelcome, but a constant reminder of my lake of knowledge in your writing's rules is as bad as not at all. As grandma use to say, too much is just as not enough. So please, forget that part on your review and just talk about the important thing, like the flaw in the story, or maybe something I did wrong with some of the character that I borrow from our dear Watsuki-sama. Thanks and now please, click the review button, you know I want it. And the more review I get, the faster I write. ^-^


	3. Chapter Two

Author's note: Man…I'm so tired. It's currently  3 am (and I got up at 6 am the day before… -_-) and I'm finally done with this chapter. I'm not very satisfied with the second portion.. but I can't do better than that. I would like to use this space of free talking to tell you guys how I feel about the world today. Seeing the most powerful nation of the world going so shamelessly at war for some speculated reason, mere invention of paranoid self-absorption, I feel it's a pity. Don't get me wrong, I do have a heart and fear for the well being of those soldiers risking their lives for a war that should never have been. A pray for their safe return and that this war will end soon with less victim and devastation possible. Where is our Kenshin when we need him? I swear, some people need to think more like our 'lil swirly eyed Rurouni… sigh. So to each and every of you, weather you're black or white, American of Arabian, Cristian or Muslman, I wish for you the best and the most beautiful things in life. We all deserves peace, when for the first time of the world, we see the planetary movement, so many voices in so many languages rising in unison and demanding world wide peace, once and for all. ^-^ God bless us all (and I don't even believe in god, but I thought it was a fitting sentence)

Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sew (just to tired to write a real one)

Warnings: The same as usual (told you I was tired)

**Within Soul**

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Tow

_"Speak softly and carry big stick, you will go far."_

_                                               -Theodore Roosevelt_

  Two months had passed since the first assassination. Like the gentle and silent flow of the river, time changed, days turning into nights, nights getting longer as autumn consumed nature's energy. Like a slow disease, eating what was left of summer and stealing away the soft tones of green, changing them into the mournful browns of the dieing season. It would be pretty, all those colors, flaring around in the trees, making it feel as if nature was getting dressed up before its last breath, trying to cheer the livings, somehow saying that soon, life would bloom again. But in Kenshin's heart, it was yet another reminder of his sins.

  Eight weeks had passed since he became officially the new Hittokiri, and with his rise to the shadow killing, many other occurred within those weeks. And with each death, something inside of him broke. Soon, he had more and more trouble smiling and he felt the more miserable about everything he did before. He thought it would be easy for him. Having killed countless times before, he was almost persuaded that it would be an easy way to help. Killing those who must be, spreading the 'heavenly vengeance', and bringing up a new era. It was foolish thoughts. Each of these deceases was weighing a thousand pounds compare to what he did before. He knew it made no sense, that he should feel the weigh of those past deaths as much as those new ones, but he felt more and more in conflict with himself. Himura Kenshin was slowly changing into what they now named him, Hittokiri Battousai. 

  Sitting in his room by the window, watching the leaves slowly fall from the trees, Kenshin was wondering about his new life. Questioning his judgment as to why he turned to this solution. He had thought it would be so easy to have a reason to kill and a reason to satisfy his monstrous hunger. He had not come out of that room very often. Turning toward solitude, hoping this would help him get his thoughts together and understand this change in his behaviour. 

"I guess the only thing that really gets in the way are emotions…" he uttered looking at the clouds passing by on the brilliant blue sky.

  This thought resulted into a tiny shadow of a mocking smile to pass his lips. Maybe it was not the emotion the problem, but the lacks of self-distancing. But in the end, were not those two a couple in life? Well, if it was distance that he was looking for, he sure had got some with the occupants of the inn. Having rarely come out of his room, he did not see much of those sharing his ceiling, nor had he seen Kaoru much. Amazingly, on the lot of livings that were in this huge house, she was the only one who he seemed to enjoy the company. 

  He had seen the spirited blue-eyed girl two times since that night. The first time was three weeks ago. The night had been crying, heavy drops feel from the heavens, soaking everything that would have the misfortune to be left defenceless under the hard, cold rain. He had killed again, and he felt drained, tired and lifeless. Walking back to his room, Kenshin had been trying to lighten his guilt, thinking that, at least, this time he had not taken another soul into oblivion. Technically, it had gone swiftly. The man had been alone and had not seen him. He died without fright and pain. It had been the first one that had caused him trouble. The emotionless face he always shown those he had to silence had not left him.

  Quietly, he had walked down the darken corridors after having cleaned himself off the blood that had spilled on him. Though the rain had taken much of it away, he still could feel it on himself, he could still smell the coppery fragrance of the red liquid as if it had melt into his own natural odour. Not having any other clothes, he had to put on the same gi and hakama, drenched and cold, and he had been fighting the shivers his body defence had send through him as a signal for him to warm up. The assassin opened the shoji doors of his room and stopped dead in his track.

  There, holding a broom, was Kaoru, standing in the middle of the room, right in front of the opened window. The almost inexistent light of the outside seemed to be draw to her, softly lighting her features. Her blue eyes shown as they watched sadly the downpour of the weeping sky. To him, she appeared so fragile, her white skin akin to the porcelain of a china doll, her slender hands holding the broom stick delicately as if it was the most precious thing in the world. The red head felt like a child who had just walked into forbidden grounds and he was scared of making his presence known. 

  Slowly, the girl's head turned toward him, her eyes sparkling sorrow, mirroring the mood of the sky. She did not seem startled at all from his appearance, surly she had known he was bound to come back anytime soon. Kaoru did not smile, her expression as still as his own. Wide blue eyes met dulled amethysts and she passed by him without a word, her steps light and soundless. She had that look some had when they thought they were caught between dream and reality. Not completely blank, but not aware either. Eyes that shone the true colour of the soul. This made him look away from her, fearing the hunger to be awaken and he passed her by. Kaoru did not made any move as to show she was upset by his action, she simply passed the door, put an alabaster hand on it and started to shut it, but stop in mid way.

"Someone once told me that when it rained, angels were crying."

  And she was gone, leaving him quite confused as always. The second time had been less intense. She was running down the corridor, to the kitchen he supposed, when she, as if it was a strange habit of hers, collided with him as he was getting out to get some fresh air the week before. She fell backward and stared at him form her embarrassing position on the floor. Hastily got to her feet and with a faint apology, ran away without letting him utter even a ghost of a word.  

  This was all. They had not spoken to each other since. Maybe, that night in the bathroom had done something to her. Whatever happened, he knew it was not like her to ignore someone, even if he did not know her for a very long time. It just was not her way of doing things. This silence worried him. Somehow, he wished she would talk to him just like she used to those two first day, friendly and warm. He shook his head, this was stupid. He should not worry himself with such things, he needed to get his head clear so he would do his duty the way he should and not get affected by it. 

  A gentle knock at his door cut through his profound thinking and he realised he had been staring at a bird for a very long time. A tiny brown bird, singing carelessly on the branch of a small tree that grew not too far from his window. It must have been the last of his kind, and soon it would join the others to their journey toward the warmer regions of Japan. The knocking came anew, and this time, not gentle at all, making the paper walls vibrated from the impact of the fist to the wall. If he wanted that hand to stop mistreating his door, he had to do something about the person asking for entrance. He swiftly got up from his position at the windowsill and proceeded to the door, sliding it open, his eyes grow wide for a spilt second before returning to their normal size. 

"About time, you know how heavy this thing is?" shout a woman's voice.

"Kaoru-dono?"

  She blatantly ignored his question and came in, not asking for permission, pushing him out of her way as she passed through the door with her heavy tray. Tray that smelled very good not to say the least. Not looking at him, she kneeled in the middle of the room, putting the tray down and started to set up the place for a meal. Kenshin observed her from the door as she placed the bowl, the chopsticks, and every eating accessory one would need to feed. That done, Kaoru filled them with warm food from which the delicious aroma came from and moved away from it so he could take place and eat. He did not move however and simply looked between the food and her face, his eyes showing great question, not registering the reason of her or the food's presence in his room. After some time, she stared at him as if he had grown a new arm or two, annoyance bright on her young face.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"Waiting for what?" he was still not getting it.

"Eating."

  Coming from her mouth it seemed as if it was the most natural of thing to deduce from her action. In fact, it was but he could not begin to grasp the idea of her bringing him his meal. He only closed the door and did not make any motion as to take the given food. It was clear from her frustrated expression that she was starting to get disrupt from his absence if reaction. From the very confused look he was giving her, Kaoru even started to wander if he had ever see food in his life.

"You did not eat anything in two days. Surly, you didn't forget how to," she asked sarcastically. 

  As to fuel the meaning of her words, she took the chopsticks in her right hand and motion to teach him how to hold them. Very dramatically, she raised her delicate hand, the eating utensils naturally taking their place between her thumb and first finger, the other resting obediently in the arch of her thumb. Her left hand held the long sleeves of her kimono the way she would if she was writing, the movement graceful. With the same overly dramatic acting, she moved the sticks, the pieces of wood clashing together with soft clicking sound. Her sapphire eyes glowing with soft mischief and a hint of a mocking snarl on her pink lips. 

"I guess from here, you should remember how to eat," she declared, moving the chopsticks once again to point her sentence.

"Ah… Yes, thank you."

  He looked as if lost in a trance when he walked slowly to her and kneeled in front of the young woman. His purple orbs stared at her pale hand and the look of a child who saw something for the first time passed over his face for a very short moment. Almost hesitant, Kenshin's hand lifted in the air and came upon hers. Callous fingers touched soft skin as he took hold of the eating tools and he froze his movement to look into her eyes. A faint blush covered her cheeks and she shyly adverted her gaze from his, almost feeling like she had crossed banned grounds. The exchange done, she took her hand back, the light brushing of their fingers adding some red to her burning face.

  Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she got to her feet and moved in a somewhat hast toward the door, wishing to get her mind back into straight thinking again. She was so warped up in her retreat that she never felt him move as he took hold of her wrist, ending her leave. She halted in mid step, left feet barely touching the ground and face burning in awkwardness. His hand felt so hot on her cool skin, result of stress draining the blood from her extremities and rushing it up toward her face for her great discomfiture. Time stood still as neither of them made a single move. Silenced fell heavily upon the two occupants of the small room, and the awkwardness weighing on them more and more from Kenshin's lack of speaking. 

  Kaoru turned her head, slowly as to not startle the samurai. He was there, kneeling behind her in the same position he was when she had gotten up, chopsticks in his right hand and his left up to restrain her arm. His hold on her was very gentle and nowhere near being offensive, he simple hold to her in silence, his red locks blocking his eyes for his head was slightly bent down, as if deep in thought or shame. From his point of view, Kenshin could only see her feet to waist. He felt like a fool, holding like this to her for no particular reason, debating inside, wondering just what made him reach out to the girl like this. In the end, his only choice came to speak something and let her go, at least he would not look like a perfect idiot not able to control himself.

"Thank you…" he whispered, hoping that those simple words would solve it all.

  The maid's blue eyes widen in mild shock. Was this all he wanted to say? Has he not said it already? But what really shocked her was the faint way he had spoke. His voice barely above a whisper, soft and low. The same tone would have sent a jolt of shivers through her body if it had been said in her ear. It only felt sweet and considerate from this position, him kneeling like this, holding her wrist so gently, his warm skin brushing her own. The blush came anew on her face and to cover up her embarrassment, she looked away from Kenshin, who had just lifted his head up to meet her gaze with instance amethysts, and she spoke rather roughly, smacking his head with her free hand in the same process.

"Well you're welcome but you know. I have other things to do more important than to wait here for you to decide just when you'll realise my hand, you know."

  A very pale shade of pink tinted his cheeks when he realised this, although she did not see the change of color. He hastily let go of her and turned toward his meal, muttering some clumsy apologies for his deed. Kaoru simply shook her head; feeling a bit irritated or maybe confused, she did not want to choose which one was the more accurate. She turned on her heels, black hair flying in the air in beautiful strays of midnight sky and proceeded to the shojis. Once their, she stopped remembering something and returned her gaze toward the now eating Kenshin.

"You know, you should come out of here more often. People tend to talk a lot and… there's not only patriots in this inn, even though you are all samurai."

  And she left, once again, like she had never came in at all. Only remained the light aroma of jasmine and the confusing feeling of her presence and words. Not only patriots? What did she meant by that?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Within the walls of the inn, there was a place, which would be described as a bar if it were not a commune room for the residents. There, the samurai would eat, drink and talk all they want until very late at night. It was rare to have such a place to relax in place like this, but it prevented the men to go to teahouse and loose track of time and sight of the things they had to do. The sake was good, and free, no one complained. 

  This night, it was Kaoru's turn to play waitress and she was quite the popular one. The other ladies of the inn being older than most of them, rapidly loosing their charms and getting older and older each day, was not very interesting for the boys who were, for most of them, looking for a pretty thing to watch and serve them their sake. She hated it, all those eyes, most of them with a drunken haze, spying on her every move, enticing her, calling her, demanding alcohol. Now and then, a hand would venture over her lower back with extreme boldness and roughness, which always resulted for a nasty punch behind the hand owner's head and a few laughter from the male crowd. They always enjoyed the show greatly, but no one tried twice to touch her. One large bump was enough, but they eagerly awaited the next ignorant to try a move on her, it salvaged their bruised pride.

  It was to one of those shows of violence that Kenshin had been greeted when he crossed the doors of the commune room. The rice wine had been spilled over the unfortunate teaser who had now a very red face and a big bump behind his head. The man was sprawled on the floor, eyes spinning within over sized their orbits, watching Kaoru's retreating back as she shouted a few insults wisely chosen out of her large repertoire for the drunk. The red head sat in the back of the room, a small smirk upon his lips after witnessing the rather wild outburst of the raven headed girl, causing a few stares in his direction. It was rare that the silent samurai would come out of his room to join them, if this sitting in the back was any mean of joining them. In fact, he seemed even more distant from the lot than when he was playing the secluded one in his room.

  Not so long after, Kaoru approached him, a small tray in hands filled with cups and bottles of all sizes, and gave him a small bottle of sake and a cup. She placed both items in from of him and gave the small man a tiny smile before turning back to a shout that had came from the other side, request for more hot rice wine. He saw her frown from the rude call and she was off her feet connecting loudly with the floor, almost litteraly making the ground shake form each impact of her stomping feet. This made Kenshin repressed a chuckle and the result was a slight curve of his lips, which faded as soon as it came. Even though the girl's presence was soothing him, he still had trouble smiling lately, and when he did, it was not for a very long time. It was a pity, him how was a kind hearted, when he was not stealing souls that is. This thought made the red haired man frown. He took hold of the bottle of the given sake and poured a small amount of the alcohol in his cup. 

  He watched the transparent liquid for some time, meeting his own eyes as the liquor mirrored his gaze back to him. He could see his soft violet coloured pools, worry and a slightly clouded by a tiredness that had slipped in his being, like old into an aging body. Being the Hittokiri had drained him some of his strength it seemed, and he could see that soon, very soon, he would need too get some energy back within the emptiness left by a missing soul. The mere thought of having to repeat such a horrible act repulsed him, taking something that was not his was, to him, a far greater sin than killing. Although both was a result of similar act, pilfering something precious from an other person.

  Long ago, when he had discovered his condition, he had, in a desperate struggle, strived to run from it, but in the end, he had killed and stole what he had wish to never take. He sighed at this thought. It was a vicious circle, the more he willed himself into fighting it, the worst it became. The lack of soul within his body, steering his life, made him suffer much more than a flesh wound would. Unconsciously, his left hand rose, coming gently up toward his scared cheek, fingers lightly touching the marked skin, reminder of the foolishness he had once shown. The red head uttered a soft sigh, if only he had not been born to this world, as he should have. Aberrations like him should never see one sunny day, nor feel the warmth of friendship or see the beauty of a smile. Feeling low, he downed his cup with one long swallow, wincing at the sour taste he felt on his thong, proof that something was wrong within himself, it had always been.

  Suddenly, a loud crashing sound coming from the far end of the room startled him, throwing his consciousness back into reality with a force that made him jump. Kenshin turned his head toward the source of the commotion and what he saw made his blood boil in rage. There was Kaoru, on the floor, a tray of food soiling the ground, plates and bowls broken around her, shards making strange shapes on the ground along with the food. Her right hand was forcefully restrained into the hand of an ugly large man, so hairy that his looks would be more fitting to describe an ape than a man. He was apparently drunk and horny, and he was now trying to get her to her feet and follow him with an low growl resembling the annoying honking of a pig. She yelled, her voice full of anger and dripping venom coming clearly to the red head, even through the distance separating them.

"Let go of me, you over sized  hairy hog!"

"Don't speak to me so disrespectfully you wrench!"

  With that he slapped her hard, making her head turn to the left , her hair flying around from the force of the blow. Every living of the room stood still, surprised by this turn of even. They were used to some hits and slaps here and there when Kaoru was taking care of the commune room, but never had one of the taken advantages of her this way, only a few errand touches for the sake of male pride. Almost as if feeling the girls body was a trial they all had to pass through to prove they were part of something. But this one guy, with his hormones rushing wild through his body, wishing to get something he was not supposed to have somewhere else than with a willing woman or from a teahouse girl, was harassing the poor blue eyed. Kaoru did not move for a few second, and the man had thought it was because she had given up, how wrong he had been. With furious blue eyes, she got to her feet and glared at the animal.

"I demand an apology!" she yelled, her tone of voice threatening.

"What!?"

"You heard me right, you monkey. I want an apology and I want it NOW!" with that she yanked her arm away from his hold, the sleeves of her kimono adding drama to the seen with their soft hovering movement around her. 

"Why you…"

  The 'monkey' of a man motioned to slap her again but was stopped by a hand blocking his fist with a vice grip. His eyes widen in surprise, and with barely enough time to register just what had befallen him, he was send flying across the room, ending his none so gracious fall with a loud crash, connecting hard with the walls. The spirited girl looked at the back of a small man with long red hair tight high in a samurai's ponytail. Kenshin turn around, intending of asking if she was all right but was meet with a very angry stare, telling long of the girl's mood.

"What right did you have to interfere? I could very well have taken care of it myself!"

"Oro?" the expression had slipped out if his lips against his own will, showing just how confused her reaction was to him.

  Sure, he had not expected her to through her arms around him in eternal gratitude, but he thought she would at least thank him. Instead, he had gotten a very rude comment, spited harshly and angrily at his face. She seemed to be fuming, and with just the necessary amount of imagination, he could perfectly picture smoke coming out of her ears as her irritation reached summits that he thought impossible to attain. However, having turned his back from the bully was not a very cleaver move for the stupid hormone rushing man had gotten up from the floor, and only a slight widening of Kaoru's eyes told him, unfortunately a little too late, that he was in danger. As expected, he received a hard punch behind the head and connected unceremoniously with the floor.

"Don't you know when to stop?" shouted the girl, cheeks red with frustration.

"I'll get you to respect me, woman!"

  At this point, a small crowd was forming around them, everyone very interested in the conclusion of this battle, but none of them even thinking of lending a hand. The man smiled, eyes insane with vengeance and lust, and reached for the young woman stubbornly facing him, her eyes showing no fear. But it was underestimating Kenshin's skills, who had now picked himself off the floor, eyes glowing furious and speaking death threat. He slowly unsheathed his sword, the sound of the blade leaving the comfort of the sheath, made the man froze in his movement, turned his head toward his back and was met with the hilt of a katana to his forehead. Faster than everything had started, it had ended. The man lying on the wooden floor, unconscious, blood dripping from an opened gash on his split forehead, was bound to have one hell of a headache in the morning, if he was to ever awake again. When Chochu's hittokiri looked up to inquire on Kaoru's welfare, he was shock once again to see her red face, raging fire at him, angered and ready to burst.

"I could have done it myself," she simply stated and crouched down to pick up the pieces of what was left of the tray she had been holding.

  Without a single look at him, she straightened up and marched proudly to the kitchen, leaving behind her more than one confused minds. Kenshin's purple gaze was intense on her back but she stubbornly ignored him, pride obliged, disappearing behind the doors. The red head, sheathing his sword back with a sift move of his arm, the hilt clicking as it connected with the metallic sheath, gave a last look at the pathetic man and followed the young woman out of the commune room. Inside, whispers could be heard, a soft rumour of a very strange fight where a silent and usually distant hittokiri had stood up to protect a woman who, apparently, did not wish to be protected. This was bound to feed the gossips around the house, and before morning, no one would be left ignorant of the evening's strange events.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  When Kaoru burst into the large kitchen, she could have been described as a ball of blue clothes and long sleeves made of pure fury as she made her way loudly around, disposing of the broken shards of porcelain of what was once cups and the pieces of a shattered sake jar into the trash bin. Hesitating only for a few moments, she shrugged and let her tray fall into it as well, her temper flaring around her like the aura of a warrior fighting his last and most violent battle. Whishing the noise to be the guiding line for her furor to be expelled out of her. And the ball of fury turned into a tornado of rage when, all at once, she directed her anger toward the innocent, but never the less, dirty dishes been left carelessly near the washing basin on the counter. The old woman who took care of it will surely be sorry for this in the morning when she will discover the mess the Kaoru Typhoon left behind her.

  Pouring all of her might into this simple task, she rubbed mercilessly plates and cups, bringing the poor things near dust with the constant come and go of her hand holding, as a mean of weapon, the ragged clothes serving as a cleaner for the dishes. If that thing had been alive, it would have been kneeling, demanding clemency over its poor torn body, but it was, thankfully, lifeless. Water was spread about, slipping on the floor, drenching her kimono much more than laundry would. It was a fearful sight, this young woman, in front of the basin, slowly killing the pottery with her exaggerated fervour. 

  However, Kaoru did not seem to grasp the fact that she was actually moving, trashing around the kitchen like a madden shrew, scarier than a witch. She was too far off into her own world, contemplating, or rather cursing, at what happened in the last minutes. The raven haired had had her share of hardship, having to come a long way from her former home, seeing death countless times, facing adversity with all her might, and, if it had not been enough, having to put up with sex driven men who had set their ugly eyes upon her young and tender flesh. This swelling and aching cheek was far from the first and certainly not the last bruise she had gotten from an egocentrically alcoholics wishing to bed any potable woman in sight, namely her, when had been deprived of such luxury for much longer than they wished for. 

  Amazingly, she had managed to get out of those trials almost unscathed, saving her honour many times when she had thought she was about to loose everything. Having learned it first hand, Kaoru knew that a man under the influences of alcohol rarely got to the point of his aggression, either to drowsy or simply too clumsy to do anything to her. She had prided herself with her many narrowed escapes from those animals without any help from the outside. Who would have helped her anyway; they were always too busy thinking of themselves or simply enjoying the show to lend her a helping hand. In her young mind, Kaoru had concluded that the opposite sex was useful only in battles, fighting for some uncertain reasons that left many suffering in the end, or to force their disgusting selves upon unwilling girls. 

  Still to warped up in the never ending swirls of her accusing musing, she did not noticed the shaking of her hands, or the tears that were so boldly threatening to fall free from the prison of her sapphire pools. Those eyes had taken a far off quality, making them shine deeper in their orbs, like true jewels adorning her pale face. Flashes of those fearful moments rose to her mind, storming through her creating havocs within her soul, making her hear yearn for peace and quiet, as water rained around her from her energetic strokes of cleaning frenzy. A simple wish of oblivion, to steal away from all that was ugly and cruel, from a life that did only wrongs to her, taking everything that she treasured away, leaving her lonely and scared awoke from the depth of her consciousness. 

  Where had gone those wonderful times when this caring hand had caressed her hair, speaking softly for her young years, creating magic within her, making the world beautiful and joyous? How could have fate been cruel enough to rob her of her wishful dreams, those wonderful stories that that gentle hand had so carefully bent for her when nightmares were looming in the darkness of a room at night? She had learned, far too early, that life was arduous, vindictive and hideous, taking everything that you loved so far into the darkness of death as soon as you thought you had grasped that tiny glitter of happiness you had seek for so long that it ached deeply into your heart.

  Crystalline drops of salty water were braking through the barrier of her resolve. Falling from her eyes against her will, reminder her vulnerability as a human being, living through feelings and emotions, only alive when she felt and hurt for joy was so far away from her now that those days had gone by. A shaking, livid hand let go of its hold from the plate it had been handling, the china hitting the hard floor and exploding into millions of shreds, so much like her life. A plate, portrait of her past, which had been squash under the vengeful foot of an unknown man, destroying much more than he had hoped to. Dissolving a happiness two being had worked so hard to achieve after so much painful moments. It was unfair.

  Kaoru, lost in the bounds of her reminiscences, crouched down and moved her hands over the shards, barely touching them with the tips of her quaking fingers. The trembling of her hands strangely similar to the moment of the leaves shaken by the icy wind of late October, fighting with might the chill of winter but it was a loosing battle. So much as her own. A fight that would be lost before it even started. She felt like a lost child, helpless and lone in this room, searching for her mother when fear had taken over her body and demons resurfaced telling her everything was gone and she was lone in this world. A child, too young to face her shattered life, spread upon the wet floor to which painful her tears added their salty substance to the stretching puddle. 

  In the distance, two bright purple gems observed the scene, unbelieving. The sight of the usually so vivid woman, kneeling on the ground, eyes glassy and void of her lively presence tore at a heart he had been told had never existed. And it ached to see her like this, weeping in silence, lost in a warp of memories she had been fighting against. It pulled him into action, made him seek for a way to relieve her of the burden that life had so harshly thrown upon her young shoulders, so unfitting for such a cruel treatment. He had moved without even knowing it, his body possessed by a desire to kill a pain he did not even know the source off, let alone the fact that it was not even his. Kenshin's hand softly landed on her waving shoulder and all movement seemed to be lost in space and time as she froze. He saw her fist tighten into small balls and with a force he did not know she possessed, she unceremoniously shoved the companionate hand off her quaking back. 

  Kaoru's head turned slowly to his direction, her eyes seeming to look for his in an almost desperate manner. Her cheek were sparkling from the moisture of her tears and for a split second, so short he thought he had imagined it, she seemed to be forming words of gratitude, but what came out of her pursed lips felt bitter and cold, almost vengeful. Pride forbade her to show any signs of weakness, even when it was most needed. 

"You again!" she exclaimed between sniffs, a frown forming on her face. "I already told you I didn't need any of your pity or help! I'm perfectly fine by myself!" it was a blatant lie he knew it. "So just go away and let me be! Be as selfish as everyone else and just get the hell away from me!" 

  There was a blissful silence as she turned her sights away from him, persuaded that she had scared him off, or at least killed his useless pity and disgusting resolve to aid her. But she had no such luck, and he was just as stubborn as she could be.

"No."

"What?" she yelled in utter surprise.

"I said no, I won't leave, that I will not," he repeated firmly, obstinacy written all over his finely scissile face. 

"And just why won't you when I'm asking you to?"

"You need help, that you do," he said, his voice so gentle it would be caressing her ears and words as polite as always, so polite it made her yearn to brake something.

"I surely don't need any help, especially not yours."

"How many times did those men touch you?"

  She adverted his probing gaze, wishing him far away, far from her troubles and the misdeeds of life and cruelty of human being, namely stupid monkey man looking for a woman to bed. She sniffed closing her eyes, hoping when she would open them that the caring face of the red head would have disappeared, dissolved into nothingness as if it had never been there, his words becoming nothing more than wind tormenting her with faked kindness. Did she still believe in miracles after all these years? It seemed she did, for she actually cracked an eye open and sighed when her sights caught a glance of the samurai, still waiting for an answer.

"Well? How many times?" he urged.

"I don't know. Now and then…" she waved off, her word uncaring as if that fact did not affected her at all when actually it was the total opposite.

"And no one ever reacts? They always let it happen, watching and doing nothing?" he seemed revolted by the simple idea of it. How long had he not been in the real world? Had he just came out of a long sleep for not knowing of those simple facts of life?

"Why do you even care?" she cried, getting to her feet and pushing him away with brutal force, making him take a few steps backward, she was all fire and anger. "All you man ever do is watch and enjoy. Taking those who are weaker then you as toys for your filthy desire to be satisfied with! Well I have great news coming up to you, this girl had seen a lot so don't you make me put up with your shit, making me believe you're all sweet and caring when all you want is to get me into your bed!"

  Her eyes were as cold as ice, glaring at him and accusing him of all the sins of the creation. As much as she had been acting friendly and kind with him through those few months, as much as she was harsh and spiteful. She had put him in the same bag as those unfitting warriors having the guts to proclaim themselves samurai like you compare a rat to another. Well he was not and he intended to get her to understand that fact. 

"No one's the same, Kaoru-dono…" he started but was rudely cut off by her sharp merciless tongue.

"Yeah right, and cockroaches turns into butterflies," she spat, crouching down again to pick up the mess she had carelessly created when her mind had been darken by visions of the pass.

  However, anger and sharp shards of porcelain did not made the best of marriage, add to it the trembling fingers of a young and very clumsy woman and you get a yelp of pain crown with a semi deep gush in the palm of a slender hand. Kaoru had a backward movement, startled in her pain and frustration, watching the red liquid spill out of her right hand in large drops, mixing with the water that stretch on the floor and staining the white of the china. She expressed a whimper of self affliction, feeling as if the whole world was on her back, put a few vultures eating at her liver and she was the perfect picture of tremendous misery.  

  Slowly and ever so gently, Kenshin moved toward her, bending on his knees so he was at her level. He reached a hand out to her wound, taking it with great care and examining it. His movement were fluid; behaving like a man trying to free a scared animal from the trap a hunter had left there. His violet eyes spoke of softness and care, not a hint of demand, keeping his hold lose around her wrist so she could get it back without any struggle from her part. His left hand disappeared inside the folds of his hakama and came out moments later, holding a piece of white cloth. With great attention and outer kindness, he warped the injured palm and let go of her hand. She stared at his work, a trace of fascination in her blue depth. The blood already staining the soft fabric, scattering on her palm like a red flower opening to the sun's ray.

"If I helped you tonight, it's not only by fear of seeing you hurt, although the sight of your swelling cheek is painful to me, but it was also out of honour," he started, his eyes shielded by the veil of his red bangs. "You see, I hate to see people suffering. There are so many abuses, and I fight so those horrible things will eventually come to an end. Its… a way for me to give back something I just don't know how to return."

  That said, he got back to his feet, giving her a faint smile, a true one he had not gotten on his face in ages. It illuminated his features, making him look almost out of this world and giving a certain tenderness to his facial expression she had thought no man could show. Slowly, he turned his back to her, ready to exit the kitchen and leave it as it was when, barely above a whispered, he heard Kaoru utter, with her sweet voice shaking from emotion.

"Thank you."

  It was all the recognition he needed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued… … …_

_a/n__: _Here, I wish to think my sole and unique reviewer Omochi, thank you, thank you! I decided to be optimistic, hey, at least I got one ^-^, and it was a nice one too. So thank you very much. Because of you, and also because I just love this fic I'm writing, I'm keeping writing this and I hope, with all of my heart, that I will have at least two reviews for this chapter… if only I could get to 10… I would feel almost in grasp pf heaven. ^-^ So please, click the review button, I'll make lil me so happy!


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Note: That, ladies and gentlemen is what I call a VERU long chapter. I don't know how long it took me to write it, but damn… I even had to cut the end so it would not turn too long. I hope you will enjoy my work. ^-^ As for my usual useless rambling I want to say that I went to vote for the first time in my life! How lucky we are, to live in a country where we can 'choose' those that will govern us for the next few years. Really, sometimes I think democracy is a real joke. Those who presents themselves are not much more fitted to do it that you and me. But in the and, there must be someone doing it, so I rather be them than me. Too much trouble. But don't get me wrong. I love politics, the on of the rare occasion where I get to express my frustration of anything else quite freely. My friends say that I'm scary when I get all fired up talking about my opinions over this politician or that one. Quite a sight to behold, I'm sure of it. Will the new prime minister will make the difference? I surely hope so, have enough of all those health and hospital subvention problem. Speaking of money… I could use some. Won't somebody tell Charest that l'il me needs some money to keep studying?

Warnings: Some violence… nothing too bad. Maybe some sexual relating stuff, but nothing heavy (yet).

Disclaimers: I, l'il Evil Karyta with her overly twisted mind, do not own any of the characters that Watsuki-san created. Too bad though, I really could use the money… 

Within Soul

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Three

_"I slept and dreamed that life was beauty. I awoke—and find that life was duty."_

_                                                                                  -Ellen Sturgis Hooper_

"You should be careful," said Katsura, sipping his tea. "I still believe it'll be too soon. The time to move is not yet."

"That's what you think. I have a different point of view," argued Shinsaku, never looking at his friend and keeping all his attention on his instrument.

  The sweet notes floated in the air. It was different from the soothing play of those entertaining women, who so obediently put their lips on their flute, creating melodies that enchanted men's heart. Shinsaku's music was the rhythm of war, as violent and powerful as his swords play, but true and vibrant in hope. That was the song of the Bakumatsu, the heart of the Ishin Shishi's purpose, a raging cry calling forth the warriors of tomorrow. The man's music was his soul, his tribute to the battles that would come, unfold into waving sounds of liberty. He played as he fought; he played for what he believed. 

"You should be the one to be careful anyway," added the musician, moments latter. "It's not wise to leave that inn without anyone to look after it."

At that Kogoro had a faint smile, "Don't worry too much. I've got someone watching over it for me. And a letter is on the way…"

  From this evasive answer, Shinsaku looked up from his instrument, but only received an equally mysterious look from his companion. Being the rather carefree man he was, he only shrugged and return his attention to his melody. Katsura knew what he was doing, just as he did. It was only their way of dealing with things that differed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Cold wind, a cruel gust of icy invisible fingers, foretellers of the winter that was yet to come, barging at the doors of autumn, brought along its bone-freezing path the small figure of a man to an inn rising in the middle of a city torn by the waking war. A hand, trembling and red, consequences of the chilly element, was brought up to the door, demanding entrance with what was left of a traveler's strength. It was slugged open, quite loudly for an early morning hour, and with it's thundering crash, must have waken up a few of the slumbers that laid within the thin rice paper walls. A disapproving stare came from a middle-aged woman passing, on her way to her morning rituals. However, the stranger stopped her in her retreat, cutting short on her light hope to get away from yet another man coming to eat for free under the caring arm of Kogoro Katsura.

"Where could I find Himura Kenshin?" he asked, teeth clacking making him sound more like a shivering tree than a demanding man.

"And why do you want to see him?"

"I've got a letter for him," said the shivering tree, holding out a black envelope.

"Ah, yes. I believe he has been waiting for you, please fallow me."

  The polite lady used a graceful right arm to point him the direction in which she would soon lead him. They walked, the woman silent and careful, the shaking stranger clumsy and disgraceful, making as much noise as a child stumbling down a staircase would. Sounds that exasperated his guide, for she cared for the comfort of the poor clients. A few heads immerged from some of the shojis they passed by, a very gruff, sleepy and frustrated look on their rude faces. He even saw the threatening glint of blades as some of the more furious men, who had to sleep more than ten hours a day to attain some kind of equilibrium in their disposition, which could be described as a raging un-caring, stared icily. The stranger, being a somewhat social man, used of taking care of brutes, only smiled to them, earning himself a few death glares to add to his already growing list of threat. Finally, they passed the lines of accusing gazes and reached the kitchens to the stranger's relief.

  The woman curtly opened the door for him, stepping aside, letting the man through before her. What he saw in was the total opposite of what he had imagined in the first place. He was a small, rag clad red headed man working with a somewhat silent cheerfulness over some dirty dishes that had been left from the previous evening meal. Beside him, on a low table was a old woman, face wrinkled and tell telling of the long years that had passed before her dark eyes, polishing some potteries assumed to be as old if not older than she was. The short man was humming a soft melody to himself, a shadow of a smile on his lips, violet eyes staring in high concentration to the soapy water that the small bucket contained. It was a sight to behold when you knew that this red head was, at that moment, the most feared man of Kyoto, known as the Hittokiri Battousai.

"Arhum," the new comer coughed exaggeratedly, trying to catch the attention of the washing man. "Are you Himura Kenshin?"

"Ah, yes," mumbled Kenshin looking up from his task. "What is it that you want?"

"I'm Iizuka. Kogoro sent me. He said you should get this."

  As for a mean of making his point, he showed him the black letter. The samurai's eyes grew wide upon the sight of the object, fearing its content, knowing what would come out of it would mean no good to the name written on the paper. The small man wiped his dripping hands on a cloth, walking toward Iizuka, fingers reaching for the fate bounding envelope. Behind him, there was a knock on the outside door of the kitchen to which the old woman got up to answer. He heard her chat amicably but the subject that was discussed was unknown to him, and he cared less for it for all his attention was drawn to the new comer.

"I will now be your link to Katsura-san. I heard you are the best. Rumours of your abilities had spread through almost all of Japan, Battousai," the last fragment of his sentence was murmured so only he would hear. 

  Kenshin frown when he heard the despised nickname, having hated it from the first time he heard it coming out of Saitou's bitter language. Knowing better than to show his unappreciative feeling, he simply nodded and took the handed piece of black paper, shoving it inside the folds of his gi, keeping it for latter reading in the secrecy of his room, where he was sure no peering eyes would try and get a hold of the message. On the other side of the room, the door was closed and the two men turned their gaze to the old woman who frowned in silent confusion, staring at a blue letter that she held in her hands. She seemed to think the thing would bit her, or that it came from another dimension, for she eyed it with quite a strange look. 

"What is the matter?" Kenshin enquire in his ever so polite tone.

"A letter," she remarked as a matter of fact, her answer making a few eyes roll toward the sky.

"I know that, that I do. But why does it upsets you?" he pressed.

"Its quite unusual for Kaoru-chan to receive any messages."

"Really? I thought the girl didn't know of any one else than us. Hasn't she told us she had no family anymore?" solicited the other woman.

"Oh yes. That's true, but she could still have some friends back in Edo."

"Edo?" wondered Kenshin. "That's quite a distance from here, that it is."

"I'm not the one to ask where my employees come from. As long as they work properly… Anyway, Midori-san, would you care to go and hand this over to her please."

"Ah, I'm sorry, but I have to go and prepare the dinning room for the clients," answered the middle aged woman walking through the shoji with a heavy tray in her arms. "Why don't you ask Chiharu-san?" she offered from the distance.

"She's out for a few days visiting her family… Well, the child'll just have to wait," reasoned the old woman putting the letter down beside her as she returned to her polishing. 

"Maybe… I could deliver it to her, that I could," proposed Kenshin startling the two occupants left in the room beside him.

"Do you know where's her room?" inquired the ancestor.

"I have a vague idea."

  Iizuka was watching the events with the eyes of a hungry spectator feeding on the most interesting and imaginative play he had ever had the chance to witness. The idea of the Hittokiri playing delivery boy was quite the amusing one, but the fact that it was to a girl was even more entertaining. He listen with avidity, waiting for the outcome of the discussion and drinking in every words like a thirsty man lost in the desert and suddenly discovering a lost oasis full of crystal clear water, but this was even better. It was information over the Battousai that they were talking about. 

"All right then. I trust you, but don't you go and read it! I know you young men are curious about the letters girls could receive… Know that curiosity killed the cat!" she warned handing the blue letter to the short red head.

"I won't even look at the envelope," assured the samurai, smiling softly.

  Kenshin exited the room, followed closely by Iizuka, being the curious cat he was. He peered over the smaller man's shoulder, trying to get a sight of the letter and inwardly wandering what this girl, Kaoru, was to the young assassin. Repressing a growl of annoyance, Himura managed to simply halt on his path to stare right at the unnerving stalker. The taller one passed an index finger over his small moustache, feeling the rough hair under the sensitive skin that was covering his digits. He made up an innocent face, specially created for this occasion and stared back at the purple depths of the warrior. 

"What do you want again?" a drip of threat slipping in the edge of his voice.

"Who's the girl, Battousai?" he never seemed to catch the danger that had appeared in the usually calm and sweet voice of the other man.

"Kaoru-dono, she works here," and he started walking again, hopping that this was enough to dissuade the other into following him around.

"I know that I'm not deaf. What I mean, who is she to you?"

"Nothing," his tone was wavering with barely controlled frustration, what an unnerving over grown weasel.

"Now, now, I won't buy it. You know where her room is! You sure have gotten something from her. C'mon you sly dog! Tell me about it. I heard she was the only descent woman around here and that every one had sets their eyes on her. How is she? Is she ok to let another one have some fun?"

"Nothing of the such happened," Kenshin was trying to keep his control, but the words coming out of his 'companion' was like oil that would be spread over an already growing fire.

"Ah, c'mon! Tell me…"

  Kenshin stopped dead in his track and there was the sound of a blade being grinded against a sheath. Looking down, Iizuka caught the frightful sight of the deadly assassin reading his sword for a quick attack. Thinking fast, he backed off, fearing the threat to become reality if he were to get any closer. Even his sly smile was clearly wiped off his face when he was confronted to the glare Himura sent him. Cold lavender tinted eyes, sparkling with hints of gold started at him very darkly, life threatening and menacing, cutting short on the messenger's teasing behaviour. 

"Hey now, I was only joking!" the teaser defended himself. 

  The samurai turned on his heels, walking away at a rather fast pace, wishing to put as much distance between the man and him. They had known each other for less than an hour, and already he was acting as if he knew him for a lifetime. This, and the fact that he spoke so disrespectfully of a woman, made his temper boil inside. 

"Man, a simple joke and this guy could kill you…" whispered Iizuka. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  It was warm, too warm for the season, and there was that familiar sent of flowers and herbs lingering in the air. Just like it used to feel back then, in summer, when everything bloomed within the carefully tended yard her mother had ever so lovingly created for them. Opening her eyes, Kaoru met the clear blue sky upon which small fluffy clouds trailed leisurely. She could see in their cotton shapes the forms she used to when she still was innocent enough to imagine animals into the white condensed water. 

  Behind her came a soft humming. A song she thought she was the last to remember the melody. It was joyous and carefree. Her childhood lullaby. A lazy smile spread on her face and she moved her hand toward the sky, just like she used to, trying to reach the animals flying high above her. The sound of footsteps made her turn her gaze behind her, tilting her head back, seeing the world at her rear upside down, an effect of her laid position on the soft grass. First, she met sandaled feet, her sapphire pools rising to grasp the image of a neat white hakama, and higher again, the reversed face of a man with a soft, affectionate smile adorning his aging features. She yelped in recognition, startled and her face paled, believing on an apparition, a ghost from a past she had run from.

"So you finally woke up. I was wondering if I should tickle you awake or just splash some water on your face," voiced the man jokingly.

"What?"

"Come one, Kaoru. Get up and lend a hand to your old father. I can't get rid of the weed all by myself, you know."

  Spraining to her feet, Kaoru stared at the man, eyes wide and unblinking, fearing that if she closed them, the apparition would fade and leave her again to face her misery, alone. The will one could utter when facing something could be amazing. Her gaze stayed glued to the man, so tall she felt like a tiny ant, eyes watering from the lake of moisturising, stinging and itching. But she just would not give in, wishing this as true as water flowed endlessly toward the sea.

"What? Do I have something on my face? Stop staring at me as if I was a ghost and move a bit, would you? I'd like to have this done before dinner," the tone of his voice was teasing.

"Fa… Father?"

"Yes Kaoru… What's the matter?"

"Father!" she exclaimed lurching herself in the arms of the man.

  Caught off guards, the father figure was pushed a few steps back from the forceful impact of his daughter jumping at him. The wind was knocked out of his lugs as she tightly hugged him. Very confused, he passed an arm over her shoulder, returning the tender gesture of the young Kaoru. Ocean blue eyes set upon the top of a black haired head, sniffle coming from the small thing as she nuzzled her face into the warmth of his gi. A callous hand caressed the silky locks of shiny black hairs adoringly, but worry was lingering to his face. He was about to reformulate his question, caring to find what was wrong with his child when he heard incoherent muffles from within the folds of his clothing's, along with sniffing and hic upping. 

"I thought… you were dead… I saw… but now… I missed you." 

  The rest was lost to him for the weeping had grown in size and decibels. Slowly, he crouched down and stared at the tearful face of the girl. He smiled gently, reassuringly, rendering her sorrowful cries to small and quiet, compared to the outburst of her early sadness, sniffing. Kaoru shyly curved her lips up, trying hard to give back the happy face her father had just gave her. Using the back of her hand, she wiped her cheeks and nose, than cleaned that hand with the silk of her soft pink kimono. With the loving gaze of her only family, every torment and pain was forgotten, lost in the back of the mind such as a dream would, transforming to a mere nagging, reminder that something happened, but not able to put a finger on just what it really was. 

"Don't worry Kaoru. Everything is going to be all right. Now, we should get back to our gardening, the weed won't be taken care of by themselves."

  She nodded mutely, still too shaken to even utter a single word, let alone a sound. And her throat was too tight to even muster up the strength to let even the smallest squeak of a hic up out of her mouth. Taking the offered large hand, she walked toward the flower bed and kneeled beside the man. One by one, Kaoru torn the useless plants, disposing of them into a bucket left by her side for that sole purpose. The pair worked in silences when, after much more handful of weed, Kaoru uttered, in her smile childish voice, a question she thought had already been asked before.

"Father, is Kenjitsu really only to kill?"

  The parent was silent for some time, going as far as posing in his work, he stared with empty eyes at a pale blue flower that seemed to gaze at him with accusing eyes, if flowers had eyes that is. "I'm afraid that it's its only reason of being. A sword is a weapon, and holding it is bound to hurt and even kill someone. Why do you ask?"

"Well," she torn another plant from the ground and observed the roots with childish fascination, a thoughtful expression on her young face. "Why don't they use it to protect people?"

"Ah," there was an indulgent smile in the depth of his voice. "It's not that easy."

"But, they say that they are fighting for our future," she was almost whining at this point when she looked directly to her father's face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they say that they are fighting this war to protect people, but they are killing so many. But if Kenjitsu was really meant to protect, they wouldn't be killing would they?"

"You're quite right. Unfortunately, not every body thinks like you. Also, this war is much more complicated than you can imagine," explained the older man shoving a hand into the hair of his daughter. 

"Than maybe we should teach people to protect life and not kill it," her eyes shown with hope. 

"Protect life, heh?" the father looked at the child, deep in thoughts for several seconds and than finished, "Why not? It sounds good!"

"Really? You really do agree with me?"

"Of course I do! I also value life, and I happen to have a few ideas as how to make that dream possible."

"I didn't dreamed it, I thought of it!" interjected Kaoru.

"Of course you thought it."

  She smiled, proud of herself, feeling her chest fill with a warm sensation of self-satisfaction. She could be quite a bright brat when she tried. There was a feeling of joy lifting her heart, making her mind sing in bliss. She felt perfect, it has been a long time since she had had this overwhelming feeling of happiness filling her from the inside and the warm wave that it created shook through her body pleasantly. However, something in the back of her mind resounded. A somewhat annoying knocking, tearing her away from this joy and drowning her into darkness. Everything around her was fading, blurring at an alluring fast pace. She felt scared and tried to reach for the reassuring hand of her father but it seemed as if he was far away. So far, she could only see the outline of his form. Kaoru tried to cry for him, but the loud noise lower the lead of her soft voice. It was no use, she felt hopeless.

  The knocking became harder and harder until one made her jump in fright, opening her eyes to gaze at the plane ceiling of a room. Everything was silence for some times, the air turning into the flow of time, icy and heavy on her. She stared blindly at the white taint of the roofs under part. It had been only a dream, a reverie of a time long since gone, when she was but a child, alone with her father, learning of the things in life, carefree and wild, playing like a boy, but dressed as a girl. No wonder she was such a clumsy housekeeper. She exalted a breath of exasperation, feeling out of place, a stranger in a familiar surrounding. As soon as she thought the pounding had also been a part of the dream, it started again, followed with a soft inquire. 

"Kaoru-dono?"

  No doubt, the soft voice, the honorific name, it was Kenshin. Still drowsy from her rest, she pushed the blankets away from her, feeling the cold air grazing her skin, sending shivers through her body, making the tiny hair of her flesh rise, self defense against the cold, but not efficient whatsoever. Her sleep wear gaping in the region of her cleavage, not at all aware of that fact, too sleepy to even care, only wishing the noise to come to an end. Kaoru's temper flared, she was not a morning person, and hating being jolt awake by some samurai for unknown reasons. She padded toward the door, she slid the shoji door open and stared, eyes darken from her half asleep condition, at a startled Kenshin.

  Fist posed in mid swing toward the now opened door, his violet gems catching her annoyed expression and then, the fair amount of flesh that her yakuta so generously showed him, unable to keep himself from staring openly. After all, he was a man, very aware of women's beauty and charms, and he was not blind to it, although he hand other preoccupation. However, this glimpse of round skin stroked him, freezing him in place and, as an effect to it, completely erased the purpose of his visit. 

"What is it that you want, Kenshin?" she asked, yawning and posing her bandaged hand on the frame of the door for stabilization but the movement only revealed more of her skin.

"Er… what I want?" he stuttered, lost and utterly confused for a changing. 

  Irritated, Kaoru followed the line of his gaze to her chest, not quite realizing yet what seemed to be the matter with his sudden interest of this aria. The information took some time to set in her drowsy mind, but when she understood it, it created a dazzling reacting, and a fist was sent flying toward the general direction of his face, hitting him forcefully, knocking him off his feet, deaden and swirling eyed, feet high in the air. The door was slammed shut with such power that if he had been conscious, Kenshin would have feared it broken with the potent force implied in the movement. 

"Kenshin you pervert!" came the outraged voice of a fuming Kaoru.

"What?"

  Regaining his sense, Kenshin sat in front of the door, staring with a black eye at the material, nearing understanding as he recalled just what exactly happened to him. He remembered having come to this corridor with a letter for the vibrant woman behind that shoji, who was now shouting incomprehensibly about how the opposite sex seemed to always take advantages of their female counterparts. A blush appeared on his face, tainting his cheeks in a lovable pinkish hew. Still sitting awkwardly on the floor, he started to voice his excuses.

"I'm sorry, Kaoru-dono, that I am," he started sheepishly. "I did not expected you to open in… that condition…"

"You didn't have to stare! The least you could have done was look away and warn me."

Would it have made any difference? He thought before trying again. "I was about to point it to you, that I was," but of course, all this apologizing and explanations were as useless as a book was to an illiterate.

  To the small man demise, a group of young men passed behind him, most likely they had had a glimpse of his conversation with the furious woman for he got a few weird glace, a few laughter and an considerable amount of snide remarks, all of which hinting to his bruised left eye. Kenshin grumbled some incomprehensible curses under his breath, hating the looks he had been given and dreading the consequences such scene would, no doubt, create in the small community that had been created under the shielding roof of the inn. He, in a sad way, deserved it, but certainly, the man was not ready to fully accept it. Now he was cursed to the cruel teasing of male supposedly companionship. Fate was cruel, he thought.

  Still sitting cross legs on the wooden flooring, he passed a hand through his red locks. How worst could his day become, he mused while staring at the door. His arm fell to his laps, a sing of giving up, something he was not very likely to do, but did when he felt the time was right. It was at that precise moment that his brain remembered its functioning and reminded him of the message he had to deliver. Mustering as much courage as he could, feeling like a man led to his execution, he took a deep breath in and spoke.

"Kaoru-dono, open up. I have a…" he tried explained, hoping this would solve all the problems, but was rudely cut off in his try.

"No!" came her heated reply. "As if I would open my door to some laying pervert!"

"But I have a…"

"I said no!"

  He had to come to the realization that this situation was hopeless. But the letter had to be given to her non the less. How could he manage to make her understand that this whole situation was a simple misunderstanding? Within the comforting confines of her room, Kaoru stared at the door, knowing that she had over reacted, but too proud to say it aloud. She certainly was not about to open up and apologize for the black eye she was certain she had created on the man's face. Than she sniffed haughty, he had stared longer than necessary at her breasts, he deserved this treatment, at least for as long as her anger would remain. 

"I'm so very sorry for what happened, that I am. I… I'll just leave the letter in front of your door and go away. I dare to hope for forgiveness. Have a nice day, Kaoru-dono," mine surely will be a hell, he wanted to add but chose not to, fearing a painful reaction from the fiery woman hidden behind those doors.

  He was already by the end of the corridor when Kaoru grasped the meaning of his words. She ran toward the shoji and opened them with more energy than de rigueur, causing it to slam against the frame, making the walls vibrate and the resonance of the movement echoing around like thunder in a large plain. But, to her deception, the redhead was gone. Looking down, her eyes caught the blue envelope waiting to be picked up. With a trembling hand, she reached down and took it. A feeling of dread sized her and a shiver ran down her spine. The words that this message contained, meant only for her, were not good news. 

  Kenshin felt the same was he eyed his own black envelope. Words from Katsura only meant one thing, one more man would feel the cold blade of his katana tonight. It was not a thing that he enjoyed, far from it. He putted the letter back inside his gi, hating the mere sight of it but knowing that it was a wrong for a good. As he turned a corner, an ach spread through his body, coming from his core, like a fiery wave burning inside so forcefully and painfully that it made him stop dead in his track, pressing a pale hand to his chest, hoping the gesture would make the feeling pass. No such luck, and he found himself stumbling toward his room and once there, he collapsed to the hard floor, his world becoming a haze of throbbing and flashes of imaginary light. When would this madness ever come to an end?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The shoji doors closed softly, a vivid contrast to the energetic slam that had shocked it in the morning. After Kenshin's awaking knockings, and the very embarrassing scene that followed their early meeting, Kaoru had dressed up, making a double knot on her obi, making sure that a very small amount of skin was left to the eye. It was not really the fact that Kenshin had stared at her gaping chest, but mostly that he was a man. She had no doubt in her mind that he bitterly regretted the event. The tone of his voice clearly spoke of it on its own. 

  She sighed. This man rose conflicting thoughts in her mind, most of the time confusing her more than he was, and she had noticed that the diminutive samurai appeared puzzled more than a normal being would usually be. She smiled unconsciously as she sat by the windowsill, remembering the perplex expression he often get when confronted to her wild temper, eyes widening and getting a childlike quality that just made her want to pinch his cheeks as she would to an adorable kid. Although it was obvious he was not.

  A gust of wind threw dried leaves in a dancing cloud of autumn colors. It was so peaceful out there, she thought. So much unlike the rapid rhythm of the life she was pushed through in this insane house of war workers. She who despised war so much. Resting her back on the frame, lost in a daydream, her hand connected with the rough feeling of rice paper. Her fingers jolted back, startled almost. She had forgotten the message she received in the morning, having busied herself with her chores as a mean to get rid of the emotions that remained of her awaking. It was a miracle that she had not already succumbed to a hart attack, with all the powerful fits of humor she went through. Going from serine to a hurricane, so much she managed to frighten quite a few of the household, and, also the attention of men who sought for some fire in their bed. A disgusted frown winkled her nose at the mere thought of one of them getting a hand on her. Many times, she had been close, but, as if some guardian god was looking upon her well-being, something or someone stopped it at the crucial moment. Some times, it was a very close encounter, and at every chance she got, she thanked every divinities that she new of for their kindness and protection. 

  The young woman's left leg, left hanging from her position by the window, began to swing in circles as she turned her gaze to the letter she held in her right hand. A frown masked her features, dark hair covering her eyes, shielding her impressions and masking with any emotions that would transpire through her facial expressions, which stretched in a large pallet of coloring. Her long, white finger traced the sharp edge of the envelope, taping mindlessly at the pointy cornet on the bottom right side. Maybe she feared the content of the blue warping, but none of her thoughts could be read on her carefully masked face. 

  A long, graceful index finger flipped the lid open, than turning the letter upside down, giving a few taps at the rear, making it spill the paper that lay inside. With precise movement, she slid the bended piece of paper out of it binding and opened it. Blue eyes scanned the writing with calculating accuracy from left to right, up to bottom, reading twice whatever short message had been inked to the white fabric with refined calligrapher. A breeze, short and caressing, passed through a slit of the window, shoving her silken black hair to the left in a way that reminded of the purest silk blown by a summer breath. The picture of this young Japanese woman, sitting by her window with the enchanting scenery of a brightly colored autumn garden, bathed in fading sunlight, tainting her skin in shiny shades of orange and yellow, arms gracefully bent on holding carefully her letter would have melted even the coldest of hearts. The elegant way her hair, restrained in a high cascading ponytail, fell around her small frame only added more beauty to the perfect portrait of peace that she somehow represented at the moment. No one would have recognized the spirited Kaoru in this calm and concealed woman.

  Her reading done, she tilted her head to the garden that only a window separated her from. A soft sigh spilled from her parted lips and a weary expression gave a depth to her eyes that only the darkening sky would see. With a delicate hand, she reached for a candle that rested passively on the floor beside her. She opened the window, taking a box of matches from the folds of her kimono, she cracked one up, lighting the candle and then, with a strange feeling of aging, she burned the white letter, watching the aches sailed the waves of wind far into the horizon where she wished she could be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

    The same fiery sunray was caressing Kenshin's emotionless face as he stared at the burnt remains of his message blown into the same gust of wind that had destroyed Kaoru's letter. His mind was far off, lost into his pounding, trying to make sense out of the confusing words Katsura's demand had asked of him. What did he meant by the red scarf? The assassin had no clear ideas, all he new was that when the clock would ring midnight, he would have to search the corridors of the inn, looking for a seemingly carelessly discarded red silk cloth that an agent of Choshou would have left for him as a sing of identification. Yes, tonight his assignment was to kill a anonymous face, one that had compromised the organization by simply being there, sneaking around and gathering information for the opposition. 

  In simple terms, he was the hand who would destroy the rat, or more precisely, the spy that had somehow gotten into the inn. It was common thing in war times that spy would infiltrate the enemy lines, but it seemed that here, there were more than anywhere. Somehow, someone had gotten information about this inn being a hideout for the growing army of the Ishin Shishi. Unfortunately, for this one rat, he had been sent to his death. Maybe he knew of the consequences, or maybe he had been forced, or even condemned to do it. Whatever the reason was, however, this man would die tonight. 

  Kenshin watched the sun set, seeing the hours pass before him in its tranquil and unstoppable languorous path, bending earth and its inhabitants into a circle of day and night, months and years passing endlessly and unwavering. Time would never stand still, it was fated to go on and on, never fading, silent reminder of the mortality of all beings. They were all guided by it, following the tumultuous current that unfurled down the river of space. If one had a good enough imagination, they could see it as the breathing of the universe. Time was a fatality; no one could run from it, they were all a part of it, mere particle of an circle that would never cease turning.

  With much more musing into it, he could compare human existence to the dance of dust fragment dancing in the air appearing, as if brought to life, in sunlight and than disappearing moments latter in shadow, coming to a death. Far in the distance, he heard the fated sound of a clock, chanting in low rings the rising of midnight. The time has come. Turning his back to the night landscape, shining silvery with the moon light bathing the nature and slumbering creatures, he readjusted his swords and, as silent as a hunting owl, sauntered out of his room. 

  He strode around the inn in perfect marriage with the calm of night, as if part of it, melting into shadow, a being of the darkness. His footsteps not making even the barest of sound, violet orbs alert of any sings of red scarf, turning corners after corners and still catching none. Minutes passed and he was starting to wonder if he would ever find it when, in close distance, shielded by the thick cover of night, footsteps echoed. They were light, pondered and even. The person producing it was aware of their movement, ambling with certitude in the dark. Curious, he picked up his pace, willing to discover the identity of this confidant night stroller. However, a silver of moonlight catch the side of his sight, lighting a silken red scarf laying on the honeyed colored wood of the flooring, right in front of a small shoji. The pounding of feet fades as he stops, glaring at the fabric, caught between inquisitiveness and duty. He stood there, motionless, weighing the pros and counts and finally, with a quite growl, he turned to the door. 

  A soft candle light pierced the rice paper walls, sign that someone was in it, and still awake. With an incredible gentleness and in utter silence, he slid the shoji open. The room that he saw was a very tousled one, articles of clothing laying here and there about the room, some dirty and smelly other clean but highly wrinkled by the harsh and uncaring treatment it had gotten. In the far end of the left corner, a small man, smaller than Kenshin was, sat on his knees, back bent forward, a hand moving with hast, holding a brush, writing something with wild promptness. Short greasy black hair that surely had never known of any soap rested on the head, bumping up and down with each movement the man made while writing. 

  As quite as the wind, Kenshin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The silent change in the atmosphere that the samurai had created made the man stop a bit, as if feeling that something was out of place but not quite grasping yet just what the disturbing element was. He looked from left to right and a shock sprang through the small body, startled by the appearance of the man that stood there, quite and glaring, with a deadly aura surrounding him. 

  With the hast of the guilty one, he closed the book in which he was inscribing with a fugue that now only transpired in his hast to hind. Still, the hittokiri did not paid direct attention to it, simply striding with agonizingly slow steps, unsheathing his sword from its scabbard, the blade catching the glitter of the candle, shining with a deadly light for a few seconds. The rat of a man tried to get away from him, thinking that by getting closer to the wall by his side would be of any aid. Each ladder sent a wave of fright through the already profusely sweating man, eyes glued to the impressive stature of the red haired assassin. The raw power that emanated from the man slayer known as Battousai was palpable, so much that it stroked one to place such as this man was, unable to move not even the little finger, let alone blink an eye. 

  Reaching the cowering man, Kenshin lifted his blade above his head, ready to deliver the stroke that would end another life for the sake of a peaceful future. The katana was ready, demanding blood when a pang of harsh, sight blurring pain shook through the red head, making him step back, eyes closed in torment of body aching. It hurt immensely, a burning, as if fire had settled within him, right where his soul should have been. Heart soaring with harsh demand, a crave for something he could not run from. The man seeing his attacker retract and face contorted in pain thought his chance had come to run for it. But fate had a cruel way of killing hope in its wake when harsh and glowing golden eyes opened and a sword, sharp and deadly stabbed him, going right through his defenseless stomach. 

  A thin trail of blood dripped from the dieing man's lips, sliding in a red line down to his shin. Brown eyes locked with hypnotizing golden gaze, the last sight of a life drifting to oblivion, the dust particle had just passed away from the light ray of the sun.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Not so far, a shaking hand over her mouth, Kaoru was kneeling down as if she had tripped over something, her soft pink kimono sprawled about her in graceful angles and ripples of clothing. Blue eyes wide and choked, a hint of fear and disgust dancing in their infinite depth, her lithe body quaking from a feeling of nausea that rose from deep within her stomach. She felt sick and disgusted with the world. There was a flash of blue tinted light coming from a room not so far from where she laid on the cold floor. Turning her head slowly, light of shock dancing in her large orbs of sapphire. She saw Kenshin exit the room, closing the shoji with a nonchalant manner and than, still completely emotionless, took a small square of old stained cloth from his gi, cleaning the blood away from his blade before returning it in the secured hold of the sheath. 

  She caught a glimpse of his burning amber eyes, flashing wildly in the darkness, as if held in a brightness of their own and a startled yelp torn from her tight throat, sounding more like a squeaking mouse than anything else. The sound made the warrior turn his head to her direction and with a speed she had not known her body capable of, Kaoru sprang to her feet, hair tossing madly around her as she ran away toward the only place she could get security from; the yards. Unknown to her, someone was fallowing close behind.

  When she reached it, her lugs were burning, her muscled soared, not use to the activity, here heart and soul aching. Pearls of salty water lingered to her eyes, threatening to fall. She was existed, physically and mentally. So tired,  so lost and so alone. Her inner vision turned into a tormenting circle of horror lingered by blood and pain, leaving her lonelier than she ever felt. Kaoru, as if lost in a horrific trance, stumbled around, hitting every obstacle until, finally, she collapsed near the weal in a heap of pink and shaking limbs. It was to this sorrowful sight that Kenshin, lavender eyes still loitered with sparks of gold, came to the yard.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 _To be continued… … …_

_a/n_: Wa wa! A cliffhanger! I'm not too found of those things… but I thought it would fit this chapter quite nicely, and it was a very long chapter, so I believe you can forgive me for my evil, don't you? ^-^ Fist, I've got to apologies for all the grammar mistake that had slipped through. You see, right now I'm very tired, and I did start to reread it and correct the few mistakes but… I'm getting lazy. So, would you mind wait a few day before I repost a somewhat corrected chapter? Of course, not all the mistakes will be cleared off, but hey! I'm only human, and French too, so please, be kind and no remark on your reviews about it please. Thank you very much!

  Also, something new. I got so many reviews that I wanted to personally thank everyone. Hey, I got 13 reviews! (jumping around and than hit her foot on her chair) Ouch! That hurts… Anyway, so here it goes. 

Angelike Riddle: Yes, I know of them and I'm very sorry for it. I had an editor, but I felt awful to ask her to proof read my work on an anime she didn't even knew of. I share you're eager, see, I just finished this chapter and did not even bothered going through the usual re-reading… Shame on me…

Jason M. Lee: I see… But, you've got to understand that I read the manga in French and that the spelling is different. So I'm use of writing it the wait they do… But I'll try to keep it in mind… Though I think I made the mistake again with Choshuu… I think I wrote Chochou… So very sorry if I fell into that again.

Song of the Mouse: Thank you so much! Hope this chapter is ok for you and that I didn't make you wait too long. See, I did got more reviews!

Melyan: It happened to me too. Not going through a fanfic because of the summary… And usually, it's the best fanfictions around! Don't worry, I'm the optimistic kinda girl. And yes, it's K/K. 

omochi: I don't know what you mean by 'planned'(wink). But I think fate has something to do with it. ^-^

Icegal: Thanks you. Hope this chapter goes up to your wishes.

Rekka's Angel: Yeah, life sure is harsh for them. But I smell roses in the air… smells quite good to.

C-sa: Don't worry. I have all intentions on keeping this fic going on. I have too much fun writing it to simply dispose of it like I did with the other one!

Lady E: You were right! They did increased, and thank to you, I got one more. ^-^ Thank you very much, it's the first time that I manage to keep the characters in their persona. And I try my best to write the feelings as I feel it, though, as you can see it here, I get a hard time when it comes to my own thoughts…. I'm too shy for my own good sometimes.

Aerin: Sort-of-but-not-quite-the way? How can you be alike and not at the same time? Anyway, I tried to make her blend into the fell of the story, so yeah, maybe she turned out looking a bit like Tomoe. It's Seisuoku Hen, I think. But I have a avi subtitled version a friend of mine gave me. The funny thing is that when I watched it, I already knew everything of it because of the manga. I know I should work on it, but… even though I try as hard as I might, English is still not my native language. But tell you one thing, I'm even worst in French and it's my language! 

tenshi no hiren: All of my stories? Which one have you read? I'm curious! L'il me wanna know! (chibi-me jumbing around like a crazed child high on chocolate.)

rei: Yes, I started writing again. Feels good to sit back in front of my good old Yue (I named almost all of my electronics…. ^-^()) Wow, that was very nice (so nice I won't talk about the remark on my grammar… oops, too late). Thank you, I'm blushing! Now I look like a complete idiot blushing in front of my computer screen… Thanks good the step-father's not here, since now I'm living in my own room. Tell you one thing. I don't really like the Tomoe of the OVAs. I think she lost some of her personality somewhere along the way. But I would always prefer the energetic and expressive Kaoru over the stoic Tomoe. She's too cold to be a normal human being!

Thanks again everyone for your wonderful reviews! It gave me the will power to keep it up, and I wish to have more of your feedback! Till next time!


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Hello again you guys! How's it going? Are you ready for my endless babbling? Today's subject is the impact  of peanut butter in my recent life. Some of you might already know that I left the parental house a few months ago and is stuck in a tiny room that I oh so hate (and will soon leave. Which reminds me that I should start packing up, I'm out of here in one or two months!). But not many know of my decease. It's called anemia. Now, don't worry, no one dies of this, at least not me. Though I have a rare degree of it, it only makes my life a little bit more difficult, forcing me into a diet that I have trouble fallowing. You see, anemia is a blood related decease just like diabetes but it's not the sugar that is lacking but some proteins and a small problem with my white globules which makes me more vulnerable to sickness. Thankfully, all the trouble (such as dizziness and stomach problems) can be avoid through a strict diet and medication (only specials vitamins nothing too big). The thing is that I don't have much money and can't afford to pay the big price for some of the aliments that I should eat to keep myself in good health and avoid the fainting effect of low proportion of protein in my blood. So, I discovered that peanut butter (which I simply adore) is a very good alternative. ^-^ So you see, in my room I had stocked a large amount of peanut butter pots just in case. So my friend now call me the Peanut Crazed Girl, or the ever so usual Microbe (thanks to my friend's boyfriend. It stands for my usual sickness, cause I always have some damn health trouble. If it's not the flue, it's something else, which I don't know the name of in English). This helps a lot for my self-esteem… ¬¬

Disclaimers: I busted all my money on peanut butter, so don't sue me for something that I don't even own!

Warning: I really don't know what to warn you of… beside some heavy emotional distress and some dark subjects. Oh and, maybe some major grammar mistakes… wish I could stop all those allusion to my difficulties in your language. I swear I'm doing my best, use lots of dictionary and read twice my work, but I can't help it! I'm sure even you guys do these kind of mistakes… sometimes, rarely but you do them too… don't you? (giving puppy dog eyes treatment to all readers wishing this would make them pity her, even if just a little)

Within Soul

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Four

_"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses, but the soul."_

_                        - Oscar Wilde_

  The sky was bright with stars, shining high above like a thousand of tiny diamonds embroidered to a dark velvet blue heaven. It was majestic, with the milky white crescent, like a forgotten pendant hanging there, waiting for someone to come and take it. One would feel so miniature compared to the wide immensity that stretched endlessly, farther than the eye could see. Observing this breathtaking sight, orbs of cool lavender reflecting the night's muse light, Kenshin sat in mute reflection. His katana resting almost forgotten by his side on the yellowing grass.

  Although it was cold, he stayed there, unmoving, lost in deep thinking. The harsh cold wind was blowing mercilessly, trashing his darken red hair around him in a wild dance of long silky locks of deep red. The nights events had been everything but usual. The assassin, having done his duty, had followed what he had thought to be a witness. How wrong he had been, so wrong. Instead, he had run after an emotionally unstable Kaoru, whom had sought comfort somehow by coming here. 

  Never before had he seen the girl so shaken, as if all the misery of the world had suddenly befallen on her lithe shoulders, leaving her weak and defenseless. The image of the usually energetic woman, broken and crying by the well, her body sprawled in a heap of soft pink fabric and a weaving bundle, was not one he wished to see, ever again. It had been painful, watching from a far as she succumbed into depression, tearing his heart with each sobs of deep sorrow. 

  First, he thought that she was in shock, still believing that she had seen the bloody murder, and even worst, saw him feed upon a living soul. An ache griped his core, unlike that of hunger, much alike sorrow, or even fright if possible. It felt new, mixed with many things he could not even name, but it was there and it was nagging cruelly at him. It took him some time to think of the right action, the right way to approach the girl. She looked so fragile, as if a word from him would break her into millions of tiny porcelain shards not unlike that plate she had broken a few days ago. How could someone as strong as Kaoru turn into such a state of weeping and grief? 

  Finally, with careful strode, a hand near his sword but fearing to use it, he came closer to the crying girl. With each step taken, the sound of her pain became louder and the feel of her sorrow turned palpable, so thick he thought he could slice it in two. He felt his throat tightening, a knot of apprehension compressing the limbs that laid there, making it difficult for him to breath. He stayed in silence, his body covering hers in shadow, testifying of his presence, but if she had noticed it, she did not make it apparent, staying closed up in her loathing. His eyes, having returned to their normal color, scanned the surrounding, still hesitating into making his presence clearly known. But he had to know, it was his duty, he…

"Did you see?"

  The man's voice had been so soft, barely above a whisper and yet clear and powerful. She stopped every movement, even repressing the natural shivers that the cool air created on her. She was as stiff as a marble statue. Then, slowly, she tightened up, her back to him, not looking at him, as if fearing his gaze. Her whole felt tensed, restrained, like fighting an inner desire to do… something. But she remained unmoving, sitting on crossed legs, staring string in front of her and sniffing once in a while. Once she thought she had gained enough of control over her voice, she uttered her rasp reply.

"Saw what?"

"Did you see?" he insisted, his tone getting louder.

  She felt as if her answer, positive or negative, would decide the rest of her life. However, she felt stubborn, even though she was feeling low, her spunky attitude whenever she was confronted to a man never fade from her. Did she see something? Define seeing, she thought. If he spoke of glowing golden orbs boring deep into her soul, making her shiver in fright and some kind of sick delight. Or if he made allusion of a shadowed figure, coming out of a room, piercing amber eyes looking at nothing but a razor sharp sword, then yes, she saw something. Who and what, that, she had only a hint of an idea. But if he thought she would tell him, tell him that those eyes captivated her so much that it scared her, that those eyes were so intense that they woken up a pain she thought had been buried and over with, tell him that it was because of him that she had become so strangely weak, she would rather die. Never in her life, would she admit that a man got such a power over her. Never!

  Kenshin waited for her response that he doubted now would ever come. And her stubborn silence only worked as a catalysis to his already increasing annoyance. It did not take long for him to react. With a speed that astounded her, he gripped her shoulder, turning her to look at him. She adverted his searching eyes that blazed anger toward her, so unlike the gentle Kenshin she knew and learned to care for. Growing weary of her cowering stare, he locked her chin in between gentle but strong fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his and preparing to reformulate his inquiry. He got a clear look of her tear-stained face, cheeks red and irritated by the salty nature her weep and this sight simply rendered him speechless. Simply baffled by the pure distress he read in the deep, dark blue of her gems. 

  He could tell by the angle her sight had taken that she was avoiding his eyes, staring instead at his mouth, which he thought was gaping from the shock he had received upon seeing her in this state of total despair. He had seen it on many faces before, but he never even imagined witnessing such a look on the girl. It was heart wrenching, and he fought against the temptation of taking her in his arms and sooth the worry and pain from her by cradling her firmly against his chest, rocking her back and forth, as he would to a small child. Slowly, the blue jewels lift upward and met sparkling amethysts, and, as if naturally, her voice started to form words. Soft and quiet in the darkness of the night.

"I come from Edo," she started and than stop, searching for her words.

  He knew it. The old lady had informed him of it this morning. But Kaoru had said it as if revealing the most guarded secret of the universe. He felt as though warning her of his knowledge, but stopped, a voice telling him to keep quiet and listen. If all, she had come to a point where, no matter who, she needed an ear to listen and give her some sort of compassion. Fate has chosen him. Who was he to argue with such a powerful will? Therefore, he listened, carefully, taking in each bits of information, becoming the comfort she had sought for by coming to this cold and winter tinted yard.

"My trip around Japan ended here, but it started five years ago. I was nearly 12, young and carefree, living with my father. Even though only a small amount of time separates me from that time… I feel is if it had been decades ago. It had been so easy by then, not knowing that the man I looked up to, was a part of something that I now feel I have to end. I'm here to finish what he started…"

  Yes, he thought looking down at the dry blades of grass just barely touching his feet that were hovering above the ground from his sited position on the stony edge of the well. He could very well remember her story, her voice that spoke so softly, almost as she was talking to herself. She had been lost within her remembrance, her beautiful eyes glassy and shining with unshed tears. And the bitter tell was replaying over his mind, and he could see it so clearly, even now, sitting alone, long after she had been gone, observing with uninterested eyes the terra yellowed bits of grass bend in the icy wind…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  It was a warm spring after noon. One of those days when you could just breathed the summer sent into the air as it slowly settled over the revived nature. The grass had turn into a limy green a few days ago, and the young leaves where lulled peacefully by the warm breeze. Everything, the threes, the plants, the river that sang not too far in the back of the dojo's walls, every part of nature was embossed with the beauty of spring day and promises of summer. And I was there, so young, clad in a light lavender short sleeved kimono that my father gave me a few weeks ago, a broom in my hand, getting rid of the dust winter had spread on the wooden platform that surrender our house. 

  He had gone by sunrise, telling me he would come back soon, that it was just a little something he had to do and then that everything would be settled and that we would live peacefully again. And foolishly, I believed him. I wanted to, with all the will my twelve years old heart could muster up. It was all I could hang on to. The promised peace of a father that had been gone most of the time for matters that I could not yet even begin to grasp with my young and innocent mind. 

  He was all that I had left. Him and this old dojo, house of our many laughter and splitting weeping. I had been used of been left alone for weeks long by the age of seven, when everything had started. Now, I only wished it to be over. It was selfish, I new it, but I could not help it. Each time he would leave, I would busy myself with house chores. Not that I was good at it, but that it kept me from worrying too much. It never really occurred to me that he might not come back. To me, my father was a hero, brave and invisible, caring so much for everyone that he would leave his only daughter alone in their empty house, waiting for his return. I was so young by then. Not understanding that death was the end of everything, that we were all born to suffer upon the earth and than return to it when age or battles would call us back. 

  The day had flown by, and I was scrubbing about, trying with all the might my small arms could manage to get the dirt away from our house so my father would be proud of me. I could see his face, radiant, smiling and loving as he would tell me what a wonderful job I had done, even though I broke that ancient sake jar he loved so much, or that I managed to burn dinner, again. He was like that, always eager to forgive all my misdeeds. I loved him dearly for that, and for just being him. Now that I'm thinking about it, I know that I should have told him so, but it never crossed my mind before. I thought I had all the time that I needed to tell him those things. It was stupid to believe so.

  The sun was slowly fading away, lighting the sky in fiery colors, vivid tints of orange, yellow and soft purple. The first stars adorning the sky, accompanying the rise of the moon. I don't remember if it was only a crescent of a full rounded face that I stared at, such things tends to simply drift away as time passes by. It's weird, how memory works, you can remember subtle fragrances that hung in the air, such as those wild blue flowers that used to grow all around the dojo, but forget the form of a moon that you watched all night long. 

  By the time the moon had reached a mid level into the velvety indigo sky, I had fallen asleep on the porch, holding my broom as I would a doll. It was a soft, almost sorrowful knock at the gates that woken me up. In my child's mind, I was exited, never once doubting the fact that it was my father behind those doors waiting for me to come, open them so he could get in, and rest. It did not crossed my mind that he had never, even once, tapped the door before he entered, that he always opened them with force and a cheerful "I'm home!" booming out of his powerful lungs albeit it was in the middle of the night . No, in my mind, it was him behind those huge oak doors, not that hateful man coming to announce me what I dreaded the most.

  He died a few hours ago, he had said sorrow all over his shadowed features. I wouldn't believe him. It was impossible. My father was a brave man, always true to his words. If he said he would come back then, surely as night turned into day, he would be back! I yelled, eyes full of tears that I would never allow to break free, that the messenger was a liar. But his eyes rested on me, and his hand came to my head, caressing my hairs in a companionate gesture of sympathy. Those colorless pools of his shown in deep sorrow, he too had new my father, and he grieved his death painfully, and understood the pain I was going through. This was no pain, I remember having cried, this is a joke! He said he would come back soon! I waited sagely all day long, he has to come back.

  But as the night and than the day after passed by, I realized that indeed, he was not going to pass through the dojo's gate anymore. I also understood clearly, when they put his lifeless body into earth, returning him where he had came from, that no matter how long I would wait with hope in my eyes, sitting on the porch, I would never hear that joyous 'I'm home' that made me so happy. The steering joy that man had brought me, those pleasant days that were ours, there were all over. 

  I did not cry when they dug the whole in which my father would rest his final rest. Nor did I cry when they actually buried him, shielding him under the heavy brown earth that smelled so much like him. Not a shadow of a tear appeared in the depth of my eyes when they gave me the black funeral stone, memento of my departed father. I had heard many snide remarks concerning my lack of weeping. Was called ungrateful child, uncaring and stoned hearted. I didn't care. They couldn't even begin to understand the feelings and emotions that were rocking my young mind. The fact that I could not shed a tear was not because I never loved him, the reason was in the depth of my closed mouth that did not spoke a word since that night. A pride that had rose within me, a nagging voice telling me that crying was weak, that my father would not want me to be weak. He had raised me as a strong girl; it was not because of his death that that fact would come to a change. 

  I remember clearly those women talking about me while I was under their roof, calling me an orphan, forced into a world I was not ready to go through. I could care less of their thinking. All I wanted was to be left alone, to think and understand something I was never explained. I knew that I had no family left, no one to take care of me and their solution to it was to wed me as fast as possible. So they could get rid of this new weigh that had been given to them. As much as I didn't care for what they thought, they did not care for me. One night, I ran way from the house were the messenger had placed me, saying that those people would take good care of me. That was a fat lie, I soon realized. All they wanted was to get rid of me, not wanting to have a new mouth to feed. Not that I would eat anything they would give me for the matter. 

  I came back to the dojo with my father's stone held firmly to my chest and once inside, set it on the table where mother stood. I knew what I had to do, it was all clear now. The women with who I had lived the few weeks after my father's death had not bothered to look for me. I was thankful of their uncaring feelings. It gave me the time I needed to find out what happened. In my father's room, on a low table near his neatly folded futon was his dairy. I read it all, it was like an open window to his mind, his thinking, and I realized just how much I was loved, so much that he had to do things he regretted so I could live happy with him. It did not take me long to understand everything, the deep meaning of each words so carefully written over the white pages of his lifeless confidant. In a matter of a few months, everything was settled. The dojo clean and closed, waiting to be reopened when I would come back, if I ever would. I had reached my thirteen years of existence, and a comprehension of the world that was beyond the natural thinking of a child that age. 

  I gathered my things, all the money I still possessed, the precious belongings, things that could be very useful and packed it all up in a rough wrapping, ready to get a move on. And I found myself sitting in front of my mother and father, watching the sunlight shin on the polished black stones, still and emotionless. Not a tear had fallen out of my lids yet, and none would either, the time to grieve was not yet. Without a single word, I gripped the heavy package that would be my only belongings as of then, got to my feet and silently walked out of the dojo, away from the home that was the temple of so many cherished memories. The house, imprinted with our mirth, was left behind me as I strode down the road, not once turning back to see it fade in the distance, afraid that this one sight would break the resolve of my stubborn mind and make me collapse in tears. And so my journey began, with a journal and a heavy bundle on my back. I had no idea how the world could be. I was brave, courageous and strong willed, but so helplessly innocent. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  He lost his focus. He could no longer grasp the memory of her words. All he could remember was the tears, crystal clear that reflected the moonlight as they descended, slowly, down her soft cheek. The torment that was so firmly embedded into her soul. It was as watching a child die, and maybe that was exactly what happened when she walked away from her home. He could see it, into her words, the love that had been theirs, Kaoru and her father, the tight bond that they created over the years. He was her only family, her only friend, the only thing that she could turn to in moments of fright, grief or simply for comfort and love. 

  When he reflected upon his own life, Kenshin could not recall any moment when deep, unconditional affection had graced his existence. He had been born, nothing more, into a family that he did not know much of, not even supposed to be alive. Seeing his first day into life by taking his first soul and left alone, by himself, to face the worst and even worst. Kaoru had known the love of a caring family, even thought it had not been for long, she had experienced it. And at that moment, under the stars, tears shining on her visage turned toward the sky pendant, she had shared some of those memories with him. He felt guilty, unworthy of such an act of trust and friendship. 

  Turning his gaze to his bloodied sandals and blue socks, remains of yet another crime to add to the already towering list of unspeakable deeds, Kenshin felt as if the world was, once again, far away from his reach. He lived a thousand years, empty and soulless, fearing nothing but himself, immune even to death, but having never know even the slightest sign of affection. He felt like a monster, and knew he was even worst than those legendary creatures for he fed upon the very source of existence. He took what he had never had the chance to have, what made livings what they were and used it for his own selfish benefit. How worst could someone feel, not even the guilt of death could torture a conscience worst than this tormenting reality. He was some kind of aberration of existence, never meant to be, should have died upon his birth, but still existed, after all those years. 

  Clear and soft violet eyes turned to graze the sky, tortured in self loathing, lost into a whirlpool deeper than the sea that stretched around them, on this oversized island that was Japan, and feeling the weight of more than a thousand of soul, disappearing within himself, never to be reborn again. He felt like a great evil that should be slayed, but when one think about it for more than a second, they would realize that he was neither bad, nor was he good. Trapped in between, he could say. Enemy of the gods who wished souls to be set free and joyous, to reach heaven and live eternally, and also a foe of evil, taking for himself what demons wished to gain and take back within their realm of darkness for eternity. 

  He shook his head, fearing a lost of sanity. How many times had he been close to let go and simply succumbed into madness. It was an easy solution. If he were not aware of his doing, no longer would he feel so distressed and guilty about them. But, of all the wrongs Kenshin could possess, cowardice was not in the many aspects of his personality. He regarded his suffering as a way to amend for his sins that, day after day, grew in numbers and added their weigh to the immense pile of misdeeds that were his lot. 

  His sights spotted a soft but none the less bright light in the sky that, unlike the other stars that lit the heavens, shown in a soft and adorable blue hew. Her star, he thought with a gentle smile adorning his lips. The red head had a sudden startled move, where did that thought and more importantly, that uplift of his mouth had come from. Was it a sign of compassion that, out of nowhere, crashed upon him or was it something else? Who was he to know? After such a long and demanding life, he still had many to see and learn. Then his mind drifted again to the long hours passed listening to Kaoru's life tale and the words spoken so softly, almost only for herself, came back to him. Just like that, and he was washed away again in deep reflection, trying to understand what was meant to be said along the lines of her years passed before her entered her life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  I traveled a lot, saw most of what could be seen, noting that most of the towns and cities were the same everywhere, only with a different governing face. I soon ran out of money and exchanging valuables, and what I had thought would be an easy walk soon became a journey through hell's vivid fire. I got my first job in a small town, not a year after I left Edo. I worked as a maid, but it was more a slave than anything else. The little money that I made was rapidly taken way from me as a repayment for mistakes I did or did not. Whatever excuses were good enough to take the so hardly earned money I made. 

  The master of the house was an old samurai, a rich one, who had forgotten the righteousness of his budo, looking down at my from his position. Threatening me to take me to the local shogun each time I refused to do something. I was beaten repeatedly, almost on a periodic basis, to teach me my place among the world, he said as a mean of explanation. I was pointed at by the house lady, a merciless woman who hated everything beside her own person. Within the house hold of that tyrannical family of bourgeois that gave more importance to valuables than life itself, almost treating capitals as an idol that choose the path of their lives, I was nothing more than a bug. Used, abused, tortured.  

  Suffering was my daily lot, been treated with less regards than a disgusting excrement. I was a bastard to them, a child that should have not even seen the bright of day. To see them lost in their luxury, cheating on everything, it made me sick, and I started to hate power. I also lost my faith, at least a part of it. Did not believed in a better world and was locked into a self affliction that was the result of harsh treatment and bitter words, meant to kill rebellion before it was even born. 

  I was emotionally weak when I got there. Tired physically and mentally, having asked myself to many question, so many that I even ended putting the guilt of my families disappearance upon myself. They took profit of my abating self-esteem, used my illusionary guilt as a weapon to inflict more damage and bruises that, I'm sure of it, they hoped would scare me forever. 

  This little wicked machination went on for a little more than a year, just enough for me to get the money that I needed to run away, back into freedom, far from this torturing hellhole that was the richly decorated house. The experience had, at least, taught me one good lesson in this world. Money only led to more desire and greed and I did not wished to fall victim of such evils. Belongings and valuables were all you needed to make someone suffer, with power, you could strip someone of all that made them what they thought they were, and if one was weak enough, could be lest alone and helpless to try and find a way to put an end to all their misery. But I was stronger than that, more intelligent, as I liked to think so, and had a one thing they still could not take away from me. My undying resolve and pride. Combine this with my strong will and ingenious mind, it did not take me too long to realize that I was better than any of them. 

  They made me understand the full meaning of this revolution and what had pushed my father to do the things he had done. By then, I did not only craved to fulfill his dream, but I also wished to be a real part of it, not just his replacement. It was all thanks to a selfish couple that gave me the experience I needed. However, even then I had not seen everything that was darkness and desolation and that so many were fighting to get rid of, even though exterminating it was only an utopia that could never be achieve. 

  Travels made hunger, hunger burnt money, and soon, I was once again left with nothing but my father's diary and the few clothing that I could not sell. I… did things that only necessity could justify the means, things I was never proud of, things I was taught were wrong. What choice did I have? I was lost, lone and starving, and still had to carry on for I had not yet reached my goal. Did you ever experience it? This feeling of emptiness that nothing could fill, when all hopes of getting some food down that whole that had become your stomach went flying out the window? It hurts. It's as if your inner body feeds upon itself, stabbing you, taking you by surprise. When you think you forgot it, it just comes back, more forcefully, crueler than before, leaving you weak, felling dizzy and helpless. Starve is the worst thing that could ever come to you. It's painful, it is worst torture than any beating and it stays, long after you got whatever tiny something you could get down your throat. It forces you to many things, begging, stealing, and selling. All of which you're never proud of remembering, wish you could forget. It's hard to be hungry; it's coming in and out of hell without interruption, driving you near madness. 

  I finally attained Kyoto by the time I turned sixteen, weak, tired, and devoid of all the innocence I had once held. I was disabused, untrusting and almost wild. I had lost sight of the little girl that had been waiting her father, not so long ago, although to me it seemed like a century had passed. I believe that is how the souls that are damned must feel. Seeing time pass longer than it actually was. I was weary, tired and disillusioned, I needed a rest, a long rest. But I could not give up, not after wandering so long and arriving at my destination, it was out of the question. All I had left was to find the man who condemned my father to a work that was so ingrate that it killed him, and left him out of history, the one who took everything from me. I would pay the dept and than would be free to return to the childhood that I left behind, in that old dojo, which must be covered in dust as we speak. 

  I was once again left with nothing but my hunger to dwell on, ready to pass yet another cold night by the street, an easy pray for all to take. However, for some unknown reason, luck turned its brilliant face toward me for the first time in 5 years. I met him, most likely crashed into him, and even more accurately, collapsed into his arms as he was coming out of a teahouse, surly one of his numerous hides out. Maybe he took pity on me, at that time, I could care no less, all I wanted was to rest, give into oblivion and forget everything. I was on the verge of insanity, feeling dirty and useless, afflicted by the many hardships that I came across, having nothing left to give. 

  He was a generous man, not at all what I imagined him as. He was not a filthy man that desired much and gave nothing as that samurai and her wife were, nor was he like those men. He simply took me under his wing, gave me a job that earned me a honestly earned money, a place to rest and the time I needed to recollected the missing parts of my mind. He gave me much, and no longer was I feeling as paying for my father, but simply returning the favor to a man I had misjudged all my life long. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"But still, at night, when all is dark, I can feel the weight of all those passed torment, crushing my chest. The hunting feeling of fear that the tiniest sound could create, a reaction that only those who knew the harsh life of the streets could feel. Like a cold hand gripping at your throat so firmly that you could suffocate," she had emphases her words by circling her neck with her long fingers, her skin so pale on the moon light that one could think her dead if not for the light that shown in her teary eyes. 

  She had blinked at that moment, he could clearly remember the lost look that lingered in her expression, having moved for the first time since she had started. Her whole body was shivering in cold and emotion, having relieved all that had befallen her all those years, feeling what she thought would never go through again, only by the power of remembrance. It was amazing what the mind could create out of simple memories, making oneself completely wrapped in a time that was long passed and done with. 

  Kaoru had looked up at him, her expression dazed and forlorn, remains of strong grip of emotion that would not leave her yet. He had knelt down in front of her, his eyes locked into her gaze, his own filled with compassion, understanding most of what she had gone through, wishing to be able to take away that time that had slowly killed a part of her. The girl had not moved, only stared at him, face devoid of life, left with only grief and lost into a world she had wished to flee from. 

  The wind blew a few dark silken strands of her hair, veiling her face from his violet gaze that inquired respectfully into her feeling. To him, at that moment, she had looked like the child she had been before the message of her father's death had come. So pure, so innocent and beautiful in all her clueless demeanor. Slowly, as to tame a wild animal, he raised a gentle hand to her face and uncovered the expression that had been masked by the long, midnight locks, tucking them behind her ear. Kaoru's blue eyes were blood stroked, irritated by all the salty water that had been poured while her silent weeping. Her cheeks, usually so soft, had turned into red, still humid with the vestiges of her tears, moisturizing a path down her cheekbones to her lips and to her jaw. Without a word, as if his gesture was self-explaining, Kenshin warped his arms around her small shivering frame.

  The young woman stayed unmoving, kneeling on the cold earth, arms left lifeless beside her, like to long appendices that were never meant to be used. He did not pushed her, only stoked her hair with a considerate and light brush of his right hand, her head slowly descending upon his shoulder to rest, feeling her long lashes caress the sensitive skin of his neck as her eyes closed, a few more drops drifting from them and ending their course within the fabric of his gi. She grew alive, but very timidly, as a flower bloomed into daylight, her hand remembering their life and slowly, hesitant, her hand took a lose grip of his clothing, returning the selfless motion and giving into the comfort that he willingly offered her. 

  They had remained there, unmoving, simply drinking in the soothe that emanated from both, giving and taking at the same time. The wind calmed down, and if someone had been watching the peaceful portrait they made, they could have sworn that time had literally stood still upon seeing such a perfect picture of compassion. Her voice came in a murmur into his ear, muffled by the folds of his shirt that had pressed to her mouth, but still he could clearly hear what she had said at that time. She had slowly dredged up the reason of her being there, in his arms, and wished to finally answer his earlier question, but not quite the same as 'did you see' but still, a answer non the less. At least, enough self-explaining for him to make sense out of this madness that had played tonight. 

"The reason why I ran down the corridor tonight was because of this… horrible nightmare," her voice was soft, hard for him to hear and understand each syllable. "I came here because, when I was little, I used to tend the gardens with my father, it was our way to get rid of all the frustrations. Going out here is almost like going out there, in that small garden of ours. It gives me comfort, and…" her voice wavered not able to keep talking.

"It's alright, Kaoru-dono. You don't have to explain to me," he soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just startled, that is all."

  She smiled against his shoulder, having missed that feeling of appreciation that only her late father had given her. Somehow, being held like this made all the suffering that she had passed through less painful and heavy. Confessing parts of her pass had pulled a huge weight off of her chest, but left her feeling drained and emotionally tired. The blue eyes that used to be a tornado in a wrapped package hid a yawn, her grip losing even more, her lids starting to weight more than a hundred pounds. Feeling this, Kenshin shifted and uttered in a deep, relaxing voice:

"You should get back to your room and get some rest, that you should."

  She simply nodded and reluctantly moved out of the warmth of his comforting embrace. Giving him one last small smile, one last tear escaping the helm of her lids and he gently warped it away, returning her the smile she generously gave him. She hesitated to take her leaving though, and after some pondering that lasted less the a second, she grazed her soft and delicate finger on his scared cheek. The gesture made his breath catch in his through, feeling the gentleness of her caress steer him like nothing had before. Their gaze stayed locked to each other, an eternity held within the laps of a second, leaving the two of them alone in the universe, sole witnesses of a one in a one million moment that not many had shared to that day.

  Finally, her lingering fingers simply drifted away, leaving warmth that would be the only remembrance of the short encounter of her delicate skin to his roughened flesh, and Kaoru had gotten to her feet and left the yard, leaving red headed sword man to reflect upon her confidences. As he looked upon it now, a few hours later, sited on the well as he was, grazing his purple gaze on the starlight night, he felt as if she had left pieces of her story untold. He harked back to a lingering feeling of guilt and shame that had been there as she spoke of her wandering time, coming to Kyoto. It was as if some passages had been left in the darkness. Maybe she had not been ready to reveal the entire truth, or he was simply imagining things. Nevertheless, the feeling nagged him for some reason. 

  Time had passed, minutes turning into hours as time drifted as the cold wind blew and still he could feel the warmth of her hand where it had lingered longer than seconds could create. Light lavender gems stared at the sky, watching the moon give away to the sun as the velvety blue of night turned into purplish shades. A new day was about to rise, and yet he was till there, trying to understand the struggle of one soul, one spirit that had seen in a short time almost as much as his body and mind did. Maybe not all the blood, and maybe not as violent and tearing as his own experience, but still, there were some small but apparent similitude. And this made him wonder if he would ever begin to grasp what humans sought for in life that made them stay alive through such pain. Or maybe she was not a normal one? Put that way, was any of them normal to begin with? Yet another question that, most likely, would never find it's answer, just like the reason why the sun and moon kept chasing after each other, knowing perfectly that they would never truly meet. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued………_

Thanks to the reviewers: This time's lucky number was…. *drum roll* ….. 9! Yeah! Evil Karyta is so happy she would kiss everyone! 

Jason M. Lee: It's always nice to hear from you. You always home something constructive to say! I know that Kenshin was not a samurai, but understand that this is an alternate universe and that our dear Rurouni could have been born anywhere. But a do see your point, that is why I will no longer use the word to describe him. Be patient, all will be reviled in due time. Just trust me ok. ^=^ 

Rekka's Angel: Thanks for the nice review. But don't you think that awesome is a bit too much?

Imbrium: Thanks for the long review. ^-^ I felt so flattered that my favourite writer would write lil me a review! (blush, blush). Did you read the other chapters too? I hope you weren't caught by a teacher or something. It happened to me once and I got kicked out of the info lab for a whole week! (and I was in an internal all girl school, and a week without net is a torture for me!). I understand that you don't like my grammar, I really hate it myself, but I just can't help it! Even in French I have a very poor grammar… even worst orthography! It had catastrophic results on my grades last year… sniff, sniff.

Lady E: Wah, I'm glad you took the time to read it and review too!

Aerin: Yeah, I also love that scene between father and daughter. I had it running within my head for a few time but always had to delay it for this or that reason. Be patient, all question will be answered when the time will come. As for others characters from the manga… I'm not sure yet, I do have some ideas about some of them. But it still needs a good think over.  Thanks for the clearing about your comparison, now I really see your point. And thanks for titles too, it gave me the opportunity to ask my uncle to download them. ^-^ I got Seisou Hen as an Easter gift! It's even better than chocolate, don't you agree? And you French is very good, the best I've seen from foreign speakers! But I don't favour any languages. 

emsdesire: Yes, I was really a bad girl to do this. I hope the wait had not been too long! 

omochi: You hate him too? Great, because I'm gonna have so much fun with him! Don't get me wrong, but me not being English and all, what does clamming up means? I feel kinda stupid to ask, but if I wanna learn, I have no choice but to ask! Going to die? I won't give any commentaries about that one. 

SvF-BD02-Wedge: Quite a name you got there! ^-^ Yes, English is not my first language. I'm French. It's hard been a French girl in a almost all English world… (just kidding)

Celyia: (blushing madly) Your really too kind. For that, I'll give you some of my peanut butter! (and maybe cheese cake latter.. um… cheese cake)


	6. Chapter Five

Author's note: Before a ramble about anything, I have to say that I'm not satisfied at all with this chapter. But it had to be written so lets hope it's not too crappie. Also, the story will soon bifurcate into a more dramatic part, as soon as the next chapter and I believe a raise of ranking will be needed. That said, let's get into my oh so lovely rambling! ^-^ This weeks subject… Love. Has it ever happened to any of you to have the big confession and not being able to return the feeling? Its quite frustrating. Why can't a girl have a guy friend without having him fall in love with her? Honestly, I wish it would be different. I know how it feels to be rejected, everyone gets it at least once in their life. But who feels the worst? The rejected or the one who rejects? I really don't know. Both are feelings that I hate to feel. I'm too kind of a person to hurt others, even though I have a really twisted way of thinking, hate flies so much that I can chase them around like the crazy girl I am. It's horrible thought to see the pain in the eyes of a friend and know that you are the cause of it. I wish no one has to life through this. 

Standard disclaimers applies (just not feeling like stating them as I usually do, too tired to bother)

Warnings: Some material mistreatment, but nothing really bad in this one. Though the next will need a good warning… So furniture lovers, be warned! 

  
_Within Soul_

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Five

_"Life is wasted on the living."_

_                                   Douglas Adams_

  The morning, usually a peaceful time, caught in between the rush of the maids that took care of the installations, the loud morning meal and the cacophony of every day life, but not today. In one room in particular, one person intended on making the most possible sound and noises, such as a tornado, trapped in a box, would. Kaoru was furious, eyes blazing and ready to destroy about anything that would come in her way. Thankfully, her room was void of living soul beside herself. Only remained the inert object that surrounded her, and they were going through the torture of her mood swing. Here and there, you could see some innocent paper and books flying around, adding their selves to the growing mess that her tantrum was so easily creating. 

  What created such a violent need of destruction? At her wake, the young woman had realized something; she had been chasing a shadow. Such insight had been the catalysis of a myriad of reaction that, once concentrated into a sole one, created a destructive need to brake or make things fly about. But it all started with a good emotional release that she only knew the secret of. From self-affliction to a very dangerous hurricane, Kaoru had taken upon herself to vent a rage that would very well be murderous if set loose during the day. 

  There was a hate boiling inside her, tearing at her guts and making her feel useless, confined in a world she just could not bare alone. Two weeks of profound thinking, turning around in the mystery of her pondering abilities, coming to the conclusion, after many sleepless nights, that her journey had been nothing but some illusionary solution from a young mind craving answers to questions that never really were. So many sacrifices, so many suffering, and what for? Nothing but misery and more suffering and no answers. She felt pathetic in that winter morning, useless and the biggest fool alive. Such was the reason of her caustics. That and the search of a journal which she entended to tear apart with the most devious grin on her face, ripping the remains of a life she hated and wished to disappear.

  Of course, as unorganized as she was, even though working as a maid in an inn, she had lost it among the mess her room had become throughout the two years that had flown by. And now she was making it an even bigger disarray than it was. She was only clad in her yakuta, gaping as usually, so much for modesty, but she was alone, who could be staring? At that moment she was pushing her futon to a corner, moving the mass of books, cloths and paper out of the way in the meantime. Hopeless search, her mood getting worst each passing second and turning what could have been described as a passing storm to a full anger ready to slash down everything. So warped up in the confused haze of clashing fury, she did not even cared anymore is someone, or everyone as it was turning to be, would be awaken by her trashing. All that mattered was destroying and finding the hiding place of the stupid diary. However, such ways was quite a good solution to let lose an aggressiveness that could have been set lose on a living being with catastrophic consequences. At least, what few material that had been torn could easily be replaced or repaired, human flesh was a more complex material than paper, wood and fabrics. 

  Soon, realization sat in that wherever the damn book had gone too, it was not for her to find out, at least not today, and she ended in the middle of the debris of her own anger, sweating, hair disheveled, tendrils coming out of the braid that had been once a careful hair do in the most impossible ways. Her cheeks redden by her outburst, eyes glassy and unable to focus, watching everything and nothing at the same time. The blue orbs moving in a fast rate over the rests of what was once called a room, their movement in fits and starts by the laziness of the seeing organ, her heart restless, blood boiling with the remains of her outburst. 

 All there was left to do was calm dawn, take deep breathes, even though her breathing was out of control. To some invisible observer, her sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by only broken things, would be akin to the portrait of a lost child after the deadly battle that would have taken everything away from her. Even her face reflected such an analogy such the dismay was grand. Biting on her lower lips, trying hard to repress a new wave of chaos that just longed for freedom, her fingers twisting and untwisting the helm of her nightwear, chest returning to a normal rise and down, she forced her mind to remembrance. 

  The typhoon had finally passed, everything was returning to the normal silence of early morning. Such was the wander of therapeutic outbursts, violence should never be out on peers. She smiled, those were the words of her father, along many other wise advices of a man who knew more of life than his little carefree girl could imagine. The calm was returning to her soul, muscles that had been tense was now relaxing and she could think more clearly, see to, and the sight that greeted her return to the sane world was one that could very well pass as the scene of a bloody battle. And on the corner, as if mocking her, was the lost book, resting contently on the wooden floor, with not a care in the world. 

"Why you hypocrite thing!" she yelled.

  All the inhuman efforts and tries to calm the beast of her spirit had flown out the window upon the single sight of the leather bound journal. The girl gripped it firmly, and with a cry of victory raised it above her hand, dancing madly with joy, foot hitting the floor loudly, resounding through the inn and awaking the few that had been lucky to still be asleep. She had not a care in the world, but she could not remember for the life of her why she had been so eager to retrieve the hell bound thing. This put a stop to her childish behavior, leaving her confused. 

  Sitting against the wall, her gaze grassing the only thing she had left of her father, she sighed. Maybe she simply had longed to have his presence near her, even a symbolic one. Shaking her head, a indulgent smile crossing her lips, Kaoru got back to her feet, setting the book on the window sill. She straighten herself up, closing the large gape that no longer shield her breasts to the world, pulled her sleeves up and forced herself to clean up a bit. And the trashing started anew. Clothes flying to a corner, books pilling in another one, broken things and torn paper near the door, the mess got organized. First thing to be set, her bed was rolled up and left in the middle of the small room, than the low table back at it rightful place, followed by the books and the discovered sitting cousin which had been the first thing the be cast away in her frenzy haze of destruction. Everything was returning to normal, more even, for it was cleaner than it had been in the beginning. 

  However, something was bothering her, a throbbing pain in her left palm that could no longer be ignored. For weeks now the injury had been there, it had been very deep, trying to heal but falling miserably in doing so. Was it not enough that Kaoru could barely do what she was asked to, she could not even properly take care of her own wounds? Her hand hung low, eyes shield by strands of midnight hair, handing her shame to the walls that were her every day's companions. Kneeling down, she carefully unwrapped the long bandaged that had once been white but now was sporting different shades of gray and interesting tones of red and pink. 

  The slash stared at her in all its ugliness. The contours were purple, blue and at some places they turned to green, she no longer recognized the color of her hand. In the middle of the mess of colors was the wound in itself. As deep as it had been the first day, the new skin that had miraculously been created even though it had been harshly treated, was cracking up, leaving the place to the red liquid that filled her veins and some of the healing, transparent liquid wish was now infected profusely and turning to some white and yellow shading. If the room had been disordered, there was no adjectives strong enough to describe the mess. 

  The young woman let her long index finger travel the crevasse of her hand, barely touching it, and a yelp of pain escaped the confines of her mouth. It felt as if her finger had burned her, it was not unbearable, but it hurt none the less. Under her breath, she cursed the clumsiness that was hers, the cause of all her injuries and many other problems. Pinching the bridge of her nose in slight annoyance, a somewhat worried expression crossing her soft features, how she longed to be able to do her work without making a fool of herself. So many dishes and clothes had perished under her not so gentle care. This one gush on her hand was not the only reminder of her inability, she had several other scars covering her body, ungraceful tellers of her gaucherie. 

  She was not very feminine either. Been raised by her father, learning the art of the sword at young age, not knowing much of the reassuring hand of a loving mother. Her life was as her scars and as her room had been not an hour ago. And her dreams of a life away from all those troubles was only that. Who was she fooling? How dare she played as if there was nothing, keep on going like a carefree girl when all she did was wrong? She had traveled far, trying to understand something, searching a reason, chasing the shadow of her father, doing what she could to finish what he started, but ending in much more misery than she was to begin with. Maybe she should have stayed and marry that stupid man that they had chosen her. That way she would not have been so helpless and maybe, that fire that burned deep inside, that cry for something she could not even name and all those injuries, physical or mental, would have been avoided. 

  A soft tap at the door startled the girl who had been very far off and she regained consciousness of her surrounding. Her eyes drifted from her hand that was still throbbing, trying to grasp the meaning of such a noise. Where has it come from? Kaoru felt lost. That one night, awaking her past and the many hardship that had lead her hear hand send her mind into the uncertain roads of confusion. Not a day had passed without a moment of silence when her mind would suddenly drift away along the waves of memories and she was left wondering if she had do the right thing. She had to give so many things up. Her most priced possessions for the shining glow of money. A token that no one could go without. How she hated it, how she wished life would be easier, how she longed for those carefree moment, in the gardens, with her father. By then, life was a playground, joyous and she loved it. Now, she was nothing but anger, having gotten a sharp tongue and pushing away everything, even joy, hiding behind a mask of smiles and wild outbursts. 

  That knocking again. Who could it be? What did they wanted? Can't they leave her alone for once, just for this time, let her be, like the drifting soul she was and just get lost into the confusion of time, be forgotten and at peace. Was there a way for her to stop thinking? To be liberated of the headaches and the masquerade she had to play? But the tapping at her door won't stop, just as life can't stop flowing. So she got to her feet in an almost unconscious way, opening the door to a fist that ended its course barely in time not to connect with her head. Eyes, blue mist of lost, meant with a chest wrapped in blue clothing. Pink lips uttered a gentle yes, not really realizing they were speaking.

"Um… You're needed in the kitchen," gentle voice, deep and perplexed.

Yes, needed, she thought, and started to close the door not quite registering those words. The girl's eyes were once again on her hand as the shoji slid into a closure. But why can't it close completely? Maybe one hand is not enough. Using the injured one she started to push again, but it hurts and she can't stop the moan that came out. A gentle hand sized her left wrist and forced her grip off the door, turning her hand around and she looks up. A red head seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, crimson locks shielding worried eyes as they scanned the injury.

"It still had not healed?"

  No, she thought, but in her mind, she had said it. Someone push her in and the door is finally shut. Strange, a door does not close by themselves, or maybe the laws of the universe suddenly changed? There was a gentle pressure on her shoulder, forcing her to a kneeling position, the blood like hair were still there, nagging at her memory, as if she should know, but her mind was just too far off. Sparkle-less sapphires returned to the torn palm of her left hand. Odd, last time she had looked, there was not another hand there, holding it firmly on a pair of laps that sat in front of her.

"It's infected… did you tried to tend it at all?"

  Yes, but with all the housework it's just impossible to keep it clean. Of course, she thought it, her mind was still lost in a maze, but she was persuaded to have spoken those words. 

"Kaoru-dono? Are you alright?" 

  This time, she did not even thought of an answer. How come she had began the day as a tornado and ended being like a body caught in the waves of a torrent, not able to grasp anything to steer her back to safe grounds. Suddenly, a hand firmly took hold of her shin and forced her lifeless eyes to stare at to shining orbs of soft lavender. The gaze of those pools were instance, forcing her to come back to reality and with a start she regain her senses. Kaoru blinked, thick black lashes batting the air, she looked around and than focused on the face that was very near hers. Too near it seemed.

"Kenshin!" was her first exclamation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Matsu-dono wishes to see you in the kitchen," his reply was soft. 

"Really? Then I must go," she was about to get up but his grip on her arm forced her back down. "Do you mind? I have work to do."

"Your hand has still not healed," he stated ignoring her demand for release.

"I know that," she snapped.

"Than sit down and let me treat it."

"You have no right to order me around!"

  The swordsman smiled to himself, she was definitely back to normal. The last two weeks had been strange for both of them. Since their talk by the well, Kaoru had started to behave strangely, as if she was not herself anymore. One moment, she would be the normal easy-go-around girl who smiled to everyone and hit any man that would try to do something or just uttered some stupid misplace sentences. The other she would turn to a whirlwind of fury, shattering everything that would block her way to some unknown destination or simply for annoying her. Other times, she would become, as she had been not a few second from now, a lifeless doll, torn in between to worlds, lost in the vast maze of her crazed thinking.

  He had tried many times to stop it, to prevent those strange reactions, but it was unavoidable it seemed. She would either hit him in her mad fury or drift away in a made up world where she could not even sense the movement that surrounded her. Maybe he should have stopped her from talking, or pushed her, encouraged her to speak of every details. He simply did not have a clue as to how to help her out of this, so he simply act as usual and nursed each new bruises she would so generously give him or lead her back to reality, as he had done, and pretend that nothing happed, trying to preserve her sanity. Is she knew of those eccentric mood swings, there was no telling on how she would react to the new.

"How many times did you change the bandages?" he asked, returning to the conversation.

"Once… maybe twice. It's not very important."

"It is. If you don't change it, it'll get infected, that it will. But as I can see, you already know it, for it's quite a mess you got there. You should be more careful, Kaoru-dono, that you should."

"Yes mother…" she exiled feeling beyond annoyed by the slight scowling she was receiving. 

"Don't be mad. I just want to help you, that is all," he explained, laughter in his gentle voice. 

"Sorry."

  Kenshin shook his head and returned his attention to the wound. Diving a hand in the folds of his gi, he retrieved a small porcelain container and set it on the floor. Looking around, eyes searching for a roll of bandages. He spotted the table on his left and went to it, opening the drawer while talking gently to her.

"You know, you should have told me that it was still hurting."

   Just as he was about to fully open the drawer it was firmly closed back before he had the chance to see anything. Looking up, his gaze met Kaoru's scowl. He was confused. It seemed that it was all he was feeling when around her, confusion and deeper confusion.

"There's nothing in there that should interest you. The bandages, if that's what you're looking for, are in the box right over there," she stated pointing at the small wooden container to their right.

  He simply nodded and reached for it, lifting the light lid and there was the linen band among several other useful wound care utensils. The small man unwrapped a long part of it, cutting the fragile fabric of by tearing it apart and turned to her. He tried to take a hold of her left hand but she would not let him have his way it seems for she stubbornly kept her arms crossed over her chest, hands far from his reach. This was a problem.

"Kaoru-dono, please give me your hand," he tried.

"I don't need you're help, I can very well take care of myself. I'm a grown up girl you know," she sounded more like a spoiled brat than the grown up she was declaring herself to be.

  That said, she turned around and started to make her way out of the room. He would not let her do that, however, and with the he only had the secret to, he blocked her way out. She glared at him, a threat to his life hanging in the fierceness of her hard look. Kenshin did not backed off though, mind set into helping her, either she want it or not, even if it meant more bruises for him.

"Let me pass, Matsu is waiting for me!" she said exasperated, pushing her way around him.

  Thinking fast and seeing that her short fight to pass through him had left her hands unguarded, he gripped her left hand and poured some of his mixture into her palm. She hissed in pain and stare angrily back at him.

"It might hurt a little," he half joked.

"Thanks for the warning…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The old woman sighed, finally some silence. The clashing and wrestling noises that had shaken to the walls of the edifice had started not a few hours ago, gaining intensity, than stopped completely for several minutes and started anew to finally come to long awaited closure. Urishima Matsura, affectingly called Matsu-san by her coworkers and some of the boys that rested within the paper walls of her inn, had no doubt in her mind as who was the source of such an early agitation. However, she had been surprised that none of the sleepers that surely had been awakened had come to request silence. Maybe they had an idea too and did not wish to become the first victim of the day. The matriarch was quite worried at Kaoru's new attitude. She was usually such a sweet child, with a wild temper she conceded, but never had she behaved such a violent way without so much as a tiny reason. 

  When the girl had come in, under Kogoro's request, Matsura had been delighted to have a young and spirited helper, but soon she found out that the what she thought would be of great help was much more of a trouble maker than anything else. The chief had been indulgent though, saying that her presence would help everyone, it was only a matter of time. Of course, the old woman had doubt it, the 15 years old girl was nothing but concern and axity for her aging nerves. Not only did she broke everything she touched, but she was not much of a cook. She remembered with a caring smile the first time, and the last too, she had asked the girl to prepare the night meal. Kaoru did warned her, but she thought it was nonsense, that every girls had it in their blood. What a catastrophe! Although it had smelled good and looked delicious in appearances, it was to the verge of been uneatable. Matsu had learned her lesson, never again would she ask the wild child to cook again. 

  When she had come the first time, she was as an untamed animal, dirty and wild, creating havoc wherever she would set foot. Over time though, and through much efforts from the parts of Chiharu, Midori and herself, she turned into a decent young woman although her temper tended to flare whenever someone came too close to her for her own comfort. Many had learned not to try anything on her, or else they would get a few broken ribs and nasty bruises. But with her around, the girls felt more secure, and the men stopped harassing them, becoming more cautious of their action, or else they wanted to lure the rage of the Kamiya Hurricane upon them. Life surely had became quite interesting since her arrival. 

"I still could have done it myself!" came a distant feminine voice.

"But, Kaoru-dono, all you did was infecting it. At least now it'll heal, that it will," argued a second one, this time masculine.

  The ancestor hid a smile. Those two were quite an amusing couple. The secretive and too polite redhead swordsman and the vivid and passionate young maid. It was a secret to no one that Kaoru was a very beautiful and charming woman, she was what made this inn so popular among the samurai and wandering swordsman, but usually she would stay far away from any specimen of the opposite sex. Matsura had been worried at first, wondering just what that unknown man, with nothing than a name and katana, would do to her pupil. Over the two years that had passed, she had grown feelings for the spirited girl, feeling like a grandmother to the poor orphan child, she could not help but care and worry over her relationships, wanting what was the best for her. However, nothing happened and they only developed a strong but fiery friendship that, Matsu was certain of, they both needed. She only hoped that nothing wrong would come out of it. 

"And just what exactly were you doing up at that hour?" inquired Kaoru as she passed the door, Kenshin in tow.

"I, ah…"

"He was offering his help, child, which I am grateful of. Thank you, Himura-san, for bringing her here," inserted the matriarch.

"Matsu-san! You wished to see me?"

"Yes," she uttered looking up from her work. "There's a list over there, would you be kind enough to go and buy what is required?"

  It did sound like a proposition, but Kaoru knew it was an obligation. Sighing, the young girl went to the designated place and took what had seemed to be a short listing of food and necessary utilities for the inn. Unfolding it, she discovered it was much more; the list went on and on, seemingly endless. Stiffing in a gasp, but falling in concealing it, she turned her ocean deep gaze to the smirking old woman. Kaoru's early outburst had not been unknown to the inn keeper and she was now taking her revenge by sending her out, alone, to retrieve things she was sure was not as needed as Matsu pretend it to be. 

  She harden her gaze in determination, if Matsura thought she would be bothered by it, than she was far from knowing the girl! And of course, being the stubborn woman she was, she would not let her dismays show. The raven haired girl walked with determination to the door, forcefully unhooking her coat from it's hanging position and opened the shoji only to be met by a very cold wind and icy flakes of snow. She grown, the elements were against her, what worst could be happening?

"You don't intend on going out there by yourself, Kaoru-chan?" uttered the old woman with an overly sweet voice that just steered more irritation from her younger counterpart.

"What else do you want me to do, Matsu-san. Surely you don't think that the food will come here all by itself?" came the reply dripping in sarcasm.

"It's too much for you," reasoned Matsura.

"What do you suggest then?"

  The woman only fell in silence and took a side-glance to an unsuspecting Kenshin who had been standing by the other corner of the room in perfect silence and feeling quite out of place. Being a man of intuition, the look had not passed unnoticed from his part, however Kaoru had kept her eyes glued to the falling snow, annoyance hardening her usually soft face. 

"M… Maybe I could accompany Kaoru-dono, that I could?" suggested the swordsman.

"That would be highly appreciated, wouldn't it Kaoru-chan?"

  The girl looked back at them with a suspicious stare. She did not liked one bit the smile that Matsura was giving her, nor did she like the expression Kenshin had on his face. His lips were curving gently into a soft, companionate smile that would make her grateful in any other situation but today it just made her uneasy. She had felt tensed around him since the well incident, and she knew he had noticed it. He was not stupid, even though he tended to be quite the puzzled one when around her or anyone else for the matter. To his proposition, Kaoru simply surged and put on her cloak, passing the door, letting it open for him to follow her. If he were to offer his help, than she would not back off, it would have taken her many trips to the market to bring it all back all by herself. His help would be appreciated. 

  Kenshin took the unspoken message and went to the door, taking the long scarf Matsura was handing him. Now where that thing did came from? It was as if she had planned it all from the beginning. He sent her a suspicious glare to witch she act as if she had took no notice of, keeping her gaze to her work with a knowing smile playing on her aging face. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  They had been walking for quite some time, their pace slowed down by the large amount of snow that was covering the ground. The storm was slowly passing, the rate of flakes that fell from the heavens turning to a few fluffy crystalline fleck that eased down in a languorous dance, shoved about by the wind, before hitting the floor. Kaoru had been silent all the while, watching the white fluff with bemused eyes, shining with innocence, as if it had been the first time she saw snow. She simply marveled at the beauty of it, shining like diamond dust under that pale winter sun's ray. 

  Kenshin had watched her all along, finding it cute to see such a grown woman getting pleasure out of snowfall. It rarely snowed in Japan, the temperature usually to high, and the hot spring that came from the ocean, prevented it. But, now and then, there would be a snowfall, heavy and peaceful, lulling everyone, bringing smiles to every faces. It would not stay long, a few days and there would be no sign left of it, but for now, he simply enjoyed it, as much as Kaoru did. 

  The silence weighed upon the young woman, she hated it. Stealing a glance at Kenshin over her shoulder, she saw a strange smile that would just not get off his face. She growled impatiently, pulling the folds of her coat together to prevent the wind from getting in and freeze her more than she already was. Her toes were starting to feel numb leaving an uncomfortable feeling up her legs. Even though she loved snow, her nerves were too on the verge to appreciate it, and she was starting to get annoyed by the silence, punctuated by the sound of their footsteps cracking the snowed ground. 

"Why the hell are you smiling like that? You're happy to go to the market on such a freezing temperature?" she snarled.

"You needed a hand, I'm merely offering both of mine," came his answer.

  They were passing over a bridge by now, and she suddenly halted, frustration irradiating from her. Feeling nervous, Kenshin stopped to and watched her shivering form slowly turn to him, a look of death in her eyes. He was not easily scared, having seen much through is abnormally long life and being a man leaving through fights, but the glare she sent him simply froze him to a complete stop, wondering just what evil plots were scheming in her mind. Surely, she planned nothing good for him.

"You're doing this out of pity!" she accused him.

"I what?" he was truthfully baffled by her declaration.

"You heard me right! I suggest you go right back to the inn, I don't want you damn pity. I told you before, I can do things quite well by myself. I did came here from Edo alone!" she exclaimed, turning her back to him, all intention set on finishing her task alone. However, his voice stopped her.

"That's not it at all. I simply thought that by my helping you, I could get a smile back to your face, that I thought," he uttered, putting a hesitating hand on her shoulder. "You haven't been yourself since that night."

  Kaoru looked down, lost in some pondering she only knew the direction. The cold wind played with her long black hair, shoving them around beautifully. She kept her mouth shut, staring at her wet feet, feeling foolish. She knew her behavior had changed, it was just that she could not help it. Confessing such things to someone was hard on her, she had never opened up so much, not even to her father. Talking about her time of travel had been harder on her than she had thought it would. It had reawaken some feelings and memories she had buried deep within herself, wishing to never see even the slightest part of it. And her story had not even been full, she had told only parts of it, leaving the worst part, those that would turn her stomach and make her feel dirty, off of it. But simply talking about it had reminded her of those dreaded moments and made her uneasy and emotionally unstable. 

  She peered over her shoulder, her blue eyes meeting his soft amethyst stare in a sheepish gaze. They had crossed the bridge by then and were standing silently by the roadside. Suddenly, she pushed him over, startling him. Being caught off guard, he felt heavily to the ground, the soft, feathery snow amortizing his fall. He stared up at her, she was towering him with a very strange look on her face, wind blowing black tendrils over it, shielding her gaze. A delicate hand brushed them behind her ear and he could clearly see her expression. A wide smile spread upon her pink lips and soon, she was bursting in laughter. 

  The sight of the man, sprawled on the snow, face shocked and startled was quite the amusing one. He who was known now as the most dangerous man alive, the Hittokiri Battousai, had been defeated by a mere slip of a girl, who was now mocking him openly. And soon, his own laugh joined hers, melding into a sole one, echoing through the their surrounding, turning the day even brighter than it had been. How he loved snowfalls. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The cold was biting on his flesh, and the fact that he was as heavily loaded as a mule did not help him. Not able to move, he could not recreate heat at all. He was seriously reconsidering his help proposition. She kept all the light packages for herself, leaving him under a towering pile of food and other articles that the old inn keeper had requested. Now, Kenshin was in the middle of the market road, alone and having been told by Kaoru to wait for her. Yet another thing he was wandering over. How could she so easily order him around? For all, he was older than her. Now that was quite a childish thought, but being buried under tones of baskets, packages and bags was not helping his thinking one bit. All he longed for was a place to rest. 

"Where the hell is she?"

  Not a street father than the awaiting Kenshin, the young raven haired girl was on her way to purchase the last item of her outing. However, the delicious smell of street cooking brought her to a small out door establishment where several passer bys were warming up and filling their empty stomachs. Her own belly was loudly demanding for a fill up, and she could just not deny it any longer. As she passed over the eating aria, her ears caught the ushered conversation of two man, speaking harshly under their breath. Curiosity got the better of her and she casually let her ears peer into their ranting.

"You sure about it? They got him?" asked a raspy voice.

"Damn sure. He knew the risks, but I thought he wouldn't be caught so soon," uttered a second one, a bit higher pitched than the first. 

"You think it was him?"

"Who else do you think would have found out?"

"Guess we underestimated the man," snarled the first one.

"I don't really care about Urushi's death. What really bothers me is that no one would want to take his job over, knowing that Battousai's around. I surely wouldn't want to meet his blade!"

"Yeah, I heard he killed without a sound. Scary thing huh?"

"No one even knows what he looks like, it could be anybody," sighed the rasp voice.

"Don't even talk about it. It'll be even harder to find someone foolish enough to take Urushi's place."

"I wouldn't worry too much. Someone's covering it up for us. I don't know what he wants, but his help really is appreciated. Though I have no idea if he won't turn on us. He looks like a rat to me…" the voice trailed off.

  Kaoru felt eyes on her, intense and peering, watching her every movement, or lack of at that moment. This forced her to action, moving as casual as possible, walking gracefully to the counter where a tall, fat man peered down at her, demanding her order in a very harsh way. She frowned and asked for a hot noodle bowl with a voice just as equally hard. Waiting, she tried to get more of the conversation, but it seemed the man had quieted down for she could not grasp more than a few words now and then. However, she was certain that one of them was still staring at her quite openly, making her uneasy. Her nervousness started to hit the highest rank possible without making her heart burst, when a hand took a firm hold of her shoulder, startling her.

  The girl whirled around, ready to beat the living breath out of whoever touched her but was met with the familiar purple gaze of her redhead companion. Sighing, she hit his head with the back of her hand, a violent advice not to ever try and give her a heart attack again, or else he wanted to get a few more scars. Finally, the cook came with the noodle bowl, which Kenshin griped before she could even start to think about taking. 

"Thank you very much, Kaoru-dono. How did you know that I was hungry?" he asked, face set in made up innocence. 

"You're welcome," she growled under her breath, turning to order yet an other bowl. 

  The expert swordsman turned around, looking for a place to rest and eat, but instead glared at the man who had stared at the young girl. Kenshin's eyes were menacing, discouraging any treat before it even started to form into the back of the onlooker's mind, putting a protective hand over the girl's shoulder, clearly showing that she was not alone. The man's eyes grew wide and fearful, turning his shaking body around, wishing to steal away from the death-promising look. Somehow, the small man was convinced it would not be their last encounter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  From the distance, another watcher had been silently observing the scene that had taken place at the outdoor restaurant. He had followed them all day long, peering in any of their conversation. A few times, he had gotten close on getting discovered, heart beat rising at an alarming rate, blood pounding in his ears, but he had been lucky. He thanked the god or spirit that had accompanied him, hiding him in some sort of darkness. However, he had been very surprised that Kenshin had not sensed his presence, maybe the man was not as good as everyone was saying. 

"Kenshin?" he heard the girl ask as she pushed a few trends of silken black hair out of her face.

"Yes?"

"About… About what I told you that night…." she was hesitating.

  That night? My, the observer thought, they had gotten very intimate. This would turn out to be more useful than any other kind of treacherous machination. How right he had been to come out in this bitter could, fallow them around. The chief would be very please, and his pocket would soon be full of money! He was so excited by the aspect that he did not felt the look that had passed over him for yet another time. Maybe he was not as good as he thought he was.

"Well, I…" she was not sure yet.

"What is it, Kaoru-dono?"

"If you tell a soul about it, I swear, Himura Kenshin that you won't live to see another day!" she finally declared.

"If that is all that had been bothering you. Don't worry, I'll be as silent and discreet as can be, that I will. Just promise me something."

"Don't try to black mail me!"

"No, I just don't want you to break your room apart in the morning again. I'd like to get some sleep once in a while," he smiled at her.

"If that's all you want, I think I can manage to do it…," she teased.

  With that said, the onlooker smirked and turned around, getting lost in the crowd of anonymous existence, wishing to keep his the same. He had gathered all the information he needed. Ah, the satisfaction of a job well done, even the dirty ones.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

a/n: This time, we got 8 reviewers. Is it me or the numbers are decreasing? Maybe this story is not interesting enough. A big thanks to any who had reviewed, and also to those who did not, and I'm hoping that one day, they will.

Rekka's Angel: You know, that little moment was close not to exist at all. It was not in my plan but I thought that it would help the readers to understand a little bit the relationship I'm trying to describe. A from of platonic love somehow, I hope it turned out as I wanted it to be. Thanks for the complitment, its with reviews such as yours that keep writing ^-^ 

Imbri: I know you're not coming to this chapter yet, but I want to thanks each of your reviews. And hope you won't give up reading. I just love your long reviews, they make me laugh. ^-^ A bright light in my dark days. 

omochi: Thanks for the precisions. I guess she has a very strong spirit not to clam up, as you said. I don't feel stupid anymore, it's just that my self-esteem flys low once in a while. Consequences of a childhood passed with a stressed mother and a far away father. Nothing too bad, I'm not the only one. At least, I'm working hard on it. ^-^ But I can't help feeling weird and insecure at some times. And déja vu is a French word. If you translate it words for word, it would be 'seen before' but it's hard to have an exact translation. There are English words that can't be translated, such as there are French words that have no equal in English. That's the reason why we got foreign expression in both our languages. And for Kenshin having a soft spot, he always had one. Remember that he had not been able to kill Tomoe as he should when she saw him kill. 

Aga_xris: What was in the letter? If you can't figure it out yourself, you'll have to wait till I see it fits to reveal that secret. ^-^ What would be a good story without a bit of mystery? She does know how to use it, she lived with her father after all. But I don't know when I'll use that ability, surely it'll be for humorous sake only… Thanks a lot, I'm doing my best to describe everything as I see it in my head, but it's hard to write down feelings, did you ever tried to write a scene in slow motion? That's the worst of it. 

Jason M. Lee: I guess I was not explaining enough the supernatural section of this fic, but I got wraped up in the emotions, as I usually am, and forgets that there is other stuff that I must play with in the story. That's good old me. And tell you want? Kaoru got very close to lost it, but I didn't say everything about her five years of wandering. I'm a very evil girl when I write, my poor characters always end up getting the worst back ground ever. 

emsdesire: Thanks, I'm relieved to know that my spelling is not as catastrophic as some would describe it. And don't worry, I'll always write, even though it's hard, even though not many read, I'll just do it. It's in my blood!

Aerin: I got Seisou Hen part one and two by a friend of mine. (his such a cutie!) And part three and four from my uncle. Both had been downloaded from the net and are in a very high quality. I was SO happy. ^-^ And yes you can buy it in Québec, but it's English version from the US. Or, my favourite, original version subtitled in English. I also got Angel Sanctuary. (I just love Yuki's artwork!) Don't worry about asking questions, it's normal, curiosity is a sign of intelligence. (though they say curiosity killed the cat, but I like the first much better, at least I don't feel as if I'm doomed to death). And don't worry about my anemia, as long as I take my medication and am careful as to what I eat, I'll be alright. Thanks for the review anyway, and your concern. Yours is always one that I look forward to read. ^-^

Tree Nymph: I didn't know that I was impressive… Thanks a lot ^-^ You managed to get my cheeks a little red hew here. ^-^ Writing is a art in itself and I've been writing since I know how. I guess 12 years of practice finally paid off. I'm happy to know you're enjoying your reading, it's the sole purpose of writing!

Thanks for your review, and I hope I'll get a few more for this chapter, though I would understand if I get only one, or none. I really hate it, but it had to be written. See you next chapter in about two weeks!


	7. Chapter Six

Author's Note: Donut anybody? Now what the hell am I talking about? You see, I finally got a job! Yes, I'm working in a Tim Horton's (Canadian people know what I'm talking about). For you, American people, it's a bit like Dunken Donuts but with a bit of Subway mixed in it. I did my first dozen yesterday and got my fingers all sticky with the cream… I'll never thank my grand parents enough for having own a donut restaurant when I was till a little girl. I basically grew up with the sweets, and my boss was very impressed because of it. So I got the job with no wait! ^-^ Today's my second day of training and I think it's going to be better than the first one. Lets hope I won't make as many mistakes and remember to ask for the kind of bread the costumer wants. White or brown bread? Is it a special? Don't forget to hit the right button on the cashier! At least, I'm good with math! No mistakes in giving back to cash! But no tips for me as long as my training's not over… sigh. But thanks goodness, I don't have to mop yet! A compensation for not getting any tip. As for this chapter… It's a bit short, but the part that should have been the real end of this chapter was too long and I just postponed it's writing for the next one. So you can read now, my rambling's over! ^-^

Warnings: This chapter is rated R, there's heavy violence and sexual theme, so you've been warned!

Disclaimers: Don't own, but now that I have money, I don't really care if you sew me! Hehe

**_Within Soul_**

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Six

_"The basis of optimism is sheer terror."_

_                                               Oscar Wilde_

  Soft footsteps padded down the hall, a bit uneven, a shacking breath, soul lost in the horror of a moment that lingered with a bitter taste. Disgust, it had its hand dripping and sticky, wrapped her in a fierce grip, not at all willing to let go. A long, elegant and elaborated, kimono trailing, covered by a rich coat, obi hurriedly knotted around slim hips. Curses forming on lightly painted lips, turning what was lovely into a angry scowl. Hate, deep and turned toward male in general, all of this for one purpose only. With each foot that connected with the cold wooden floor, an image took place.

            Hands touching her, undoing the beautiful clothing, fingering the silk. A raspy, smelling, breath near her neck. Forcing her face into a blank expression, willing her consciousness far away, where the sea clashed into the rocky hills, forming a smooth and destructive dance, where she lounged to be. A wild grin, lusting eyes the color of defecations, a mocking smile crossing her face when the comparison entered her mind, mistook for pleasure. A pinch to her lower back, not a sound escaping her throat, just eyes closing willing to push away those feelings that were swelling inside, ready to consume her. Her clothing pilling at her feet, a feeling of exposition, hatred taking all the place in her heart, unmoving temptress, waiting, eyes expressionless, mind into a turmoil, fighting. Young woman's heart torn bit by bit, no one to tend it, no one to cure, just those hands, grazing her skin and lust darken gaze, burning her flesh. Must not think, must not see. Don't think, don't see, be blind, be deaf, be a doll for forsaken desire to be felled, be the eyes of truth, seek the information, forget everything else.

  She stumbled, her foot hitting the ground in a wrong angle, making her trip, arms reached out for stabilization. Nothing there to stop her fall, the wood coming fast to her face, alone in the world, the beautiful kimono flaring to life like a silken animal, floating in the air for seconds before joining the fallen woman. Delicate white hands in tight fists, a sob tearing her throat, but no tears to ocean deep eyes, dry water, locked behind flesh windows. The woman forced herself to a stand, legs shaking, but determination clear on her face. She kept walking, willing the memory out of her, screaming silently for deliverance, a salvation from her own hell, which would not come before rest, if there was any tonight. 

            Fingers, dirty, attached to a rough hand, gripping her arms so tightly it left red marks of fingerprints, painful. The callous that craved the hand, catching the soft black hair, pulling it. Wet tongue, smelly, disgusting, lashing at her throat that battled with the cry that threatened to unleash. Damn duty that bounded one to things that were not theirs to care passed down from someone long gone, a shadow looming and the light to reveal it all. The ultimate sacrifice of a woman for knowledge, bounded to a pledge, suffering for something she was not even sure of. Now the hand was pushing her head down, forcing a hardness to her mouth, a commending voice, demanding her to compile to greedy wills. Bitter taste, coarse grunting disturbing her mind, shattering the fragile image her mind had created so she could not feel or see what she was doing. Hateful, ugly, dripping in misery, world smashed to smithereens, nothing left to held dear to ones heart. Monstrous image of man's desire, painted in dark blood red hideous lines, anything to get what she was told to. Once again, a doll to those who wished to use. 

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture that spoke of her annoyance or aversion. Shocking her head, the woman kept walking, just maybe, she could walk away from the memory of the night. No such luck, it is when you will yourself to forget that it comes back full force, gripping at your heart and making your world spin. The moon ray's touched her satin white skin as it freed itself from the shadow of a passing cloud, making a bruise bright in all its repulsive glory. A deprecating reminder of gory moments in the arms of a man that made the bile find its way up her gorge, burning, bitter in taste, choking her. And the silver light returned to its confinement, shining no more, just as the glitter in her eyes darken.

            No matter how many times, no matter how gentle, no matter how willing she was, it always hurt. The movement, in a haze, back and forth, the sound, irritating sound, despised sound, of grunts and pants surrounding her, caging her, trapping her. Face devoid of expression, eyes glued to the oil lamp in the far corner, reflecting its soft light on her discarded kimono, wishing she were still in there instead of underneath a smelling, sweating beast, hairy and demanding, biting, sucking, linking, ravishing her. The pain gaining in intensity, she could no longer see, she could no longer hear, she could no longer breath, only pain, throbbing, cursing through her. Her mind screaming, disgust, misery, disgust, dirty, disgust, reeking, disgust, bitter, disgusting, salty blood… disgust, hatred, odium, revulsion, hate, abhorrence. A loud, bestial roar ripped through the man, it was over, he had what he wanted, she got what she needed. It was over, but she couldn't help feeling filthy. Must take cloths back on, must flee, must retire, must run away, where there is no smell, where there is no sound, where there is no living, alone, away from remembrance. Must wash, must scrub that putrid smell off of her. Please god, just make it all away, washed by a giant tsunami, a wave that break everything, a wave that killed, a wave that cleaned.

  Her alabaster hand gripped the door's frame, trying to keep her balance to a straight one. Her blue eyes scanned her surroundings, the bluish glow if the night showing her barely enough of the room's furniture, but the basin was there, with the bucket, waiting for her patiently. She heaved a sigh, a hand to her pounding heart, how she longed for water, cold and pure, it will wash everything away and, along with it, take all the memories. Falling to her knees, exhaustion taking the better of her, a smile adorning her delicate face, long silken strand falling over her shoulders, she uttered her gratefulness.

"Finally…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The room was silent, only the breath of the sleeping form that lay in the middle could be heard. The lamp had been forgotten, lighting the narrowed room with its soft golden glow, slowly eating out the oil that feed the fire. Kenshin's eyes narrowed, it was too easy, something was not right, a missing piece. It hit him, that perfume that hang around, lingering to the sheets like a stain. Sex, it was everywhere, reeking from the walls, hinting in the discarded clothing, mixed with the natural odor of the slumbering lone man. So, there was the reason of the lack of vigilance, that man had wished to be alone with whomever had been his partner, now long gone. Along with the strong smell came a more subtle one, enticing his senses, feeling very familiar, a light fragrance, shy and sweet. The mark of a woman, supposedly the one who shared the futon. 

  Carefully, he tip toed to the sleeper, lost into a hem of dreams, to sweet for someone like him. Iizuka had came in the morning, as sneaky as ever, handing him the usual black envelope for his nightly duty. It was very different however from any other assassination he had carried out through out the past few months. Where there was usually a name and a place, there was also an hour. It was obvious that he should not be there before that time, and he now understood. Katsura clearly did not wish to have any witnesses adding their weigh to the already growing numbers of innocent sacrifices. 

  As he neared his victim, the shadow assassin noticed something on the corner of his eyes, nagging him almost. It was small, it was silk, and it was blue. Turning his head in a graceful arch, intentions on closer investigation as to what it was, his foot hit a chopstick that was naively waiting there to be picked and back to its rightful place. The long wooden utensil cracked a bit, rolling away like a scared animal, before finishing its course at the foot of the wall. Eyes wide in horror, Kenshin twisted around just in time to see the nude man searching blindly for his katana and sizing it with force before jumping to his feet. He never had the chance to see who was the intruder. With a swift and skilful slash, faster than the eye could see, as if the movement never happened, the man was beheaded. 

  The burgundy swordsman observed the corps, an expression of surprise in his brown eyes before the rolled backward and the heavy skull hit the floor loudly, the sound sickeningly akin to the thud a fruit would make when it fell from the tree. The blood flood out of the body in a high fountain, droplets flying everywhere, some staining his face and clothes, before falling numbly, creating a scarlet pool on the tatamis covered ground. Kenshin turn, but his eyes caught once again the indigo on the corner which was threatened by the thick scarlet pool washing the floor. Not really thinking, he bent down and shoved it in his guy, not aware that a single drop of blood had stained a corner of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The sound of water splashing greeted him as he closed on the water room. Violet eyes narrowing in curiosity, he peered inside and stop every movement, as if glued to place, unable to twitch even a finger such is awe was great. The beauty of the scene that unfolded before him was beyond human conception. She was perfection made tangible, graceful and innocent, lovely goddess of midnight seeing. Her long ebony air left lose, cascading down to reach her slim and curvy waist. Her elegant kimono clung to her body showing the outline of her legs, hugging her form like a second skin. 

  She dipped a wooden bucket into the large basin, filling it with the cold transparent liquid and then rose it above her head before pouring the content over her. The water fell in a tiny chute and pooled around her feet. The lose obi seemed not to be able to support any more weight and slid undone to fall limply in a wet mass to the drenched floor. She breathed out, tiny droplets sent flying in the air by the force of her outtake, the long strands of midnight locks covering her eyes, heavy on her back. She repeated her first movement, sliding the container in the water, but stopped in mid way, parallel to the ground, arms shaking, shoulder as if sustaining an unbearable burden. Then, without any other warning sign, her trembling hands let go of the pail witch hit the floor with a splashing sound, the frigid water spilling out.

"It's useless…" she uttered, head low, gaze closed.

  He saw the wavering of her shoulders as a faint sob escaped her throat, but then his attention was drawn to the puddle which was closing on him in a fast pace. In the swordsman mind, things got confused, what was colorless turning into thick red. The woman was no longer soaked in water, but soiled with vivid scarlet blood. Her pale face turning darkened by the rivulets of crimson, falling to the ground to add to the growing pool which was threatening him. Kenshin took a step back, rash and unthinking, he tripped over his own feet, amethyst gaze glazed and blurry, nothing seemed to be what it was. He shook his head, willing the vision to disappear, but it stayed, vivid in all its morbid glory. 

  Soft distant purple turning to flashing ambers, then back to violet as the world turned into a spinning flicker of red and black, memories fighting over his sanity. He was coming close to an invisible edge, only one push was needed for him to fall. So many dead faces, from the first to the rolling head of the last death, all of them surrounded by a substantial puddle of bright burgundy. The small man felt helpless in a world that seemed to held only murder and demise deeper than any torment the world as seen. The bloody figure of the woman turned to him upon hearing his stumbling, the red fading away as her sad ocean pools set on him, too weary to even be surprised by his apparition by the door frame.

  Her long silken strands of midnight fell wetly around her delicate features and his vision disappeared just as unsuspected as they came. The front of her kimono had been slightly open, leaving a fare amount of cleavage glowing under the moonlight as they silvery rays it the droplets of water that still clung to her velvety skin. He stared longer than he had first intended, she did not seem to even notice, her eyes as faraway as his had been moments ago. An aura of drowning sorrow enfolded her as she fully turned in his direction, barely registering his presence. At the moment, she had transformed into some sort of lost goddess, forgotten amid humans, waiting in grief-stricken silence for her fellow to remember her existence and send the carriage that would lead her back to the stars where she belonged. 

"You need to clean too?" murmured the deity.

"I…" he was at a lost of word.

"There is not much water left in the basin, I'll go and get some more by the well," she uttered weakly before brushing pass him.

  He watched her as she slowly padded away, her wet clothing trailing on the floor heavily, her shoulders and head low, lost in self-loathing it seemed. Kenshin extended an arm, her body to far for him to reach, wishing he could take that secret weigh that seemed to crush her. He felt helpless, something he was quite used to feel, but this time, it appeared that it was worst than ever. He who wished to help those who suffer, he found himself unable to relieve the young woman from her load. Worst, the assassination he did weighed a thousand more tones than the few kills that kept him alive. Guilt gave him a bitter taste that lingered to everything his mouth tasted, even water. 

  He turned his head back to stare at the mess that had become the small room. Water was splattered all around the wooden flooring, catching the milky rays of the night lady that shown softly on the star lighted night sky. Kenshin uttered a deep sigh, sign of his weariness. How he wished things would have been different. Not meant to live, he survived decades and centuries, seeing what Japan had suffered of. Constantly been either awaken to the occidental civilization or completely closed to it in a blind self absorbing reclusion. The numerous eras, the countless emperors, the wars, the rise of shogunat, the coming of the daimyos and then their fall, only to rise again. Such was their history, a come and go of political ways, returning the power to one and then taken back again. A vicious circle that might as well never come to an end. 

  And through all of this, his life, mixed in the blood shed, the pain. Maybe it was such a existence that pushed him toward the path he was now leading. But was his staying alive a good thing? Was he been a complete coward, shying away from death each time he took a new soul in, or was he strong in his doing? He was confused, and his plea to explanation meeting deaf ears, the gods bound into silence, spirit only a creation of human will not to feel alone. But the truth was there, living things held a soul deep within that contained their everything to the living breath that kept them bounded to existence. And he shamelessly took them away from those unlucky victims that crossed his path when the urge to feed was just to strong to be ignored. 

  He wondered long what he was. No legends had been passed down for the likes of him, maybe the reason of such silence was that none were sure of the reality of a soul. Kenshin was nothing to the world, a simple aberration, a creation that should not even breathed the air that was given to the living. The redhead had once hoped that it would come to an end, that maybe he would finally find the one spirit that should have been his and that it would all be over, and he would live a normal life without crave, without the deadly desire to take what was never his, without his abnormality, and just die of old age as anybody would. Wishful thinking, he was not meant to be given such a sweet end, he had did too many wrongs, sinned countless times. If only one was strong enough to defeat him, than he would atone for his misdeeds in the underworld and maybe find a way to retrieve all those souls that were not his. However the question was, without a soul, would he even go to hell after he would pass away? Somehow, the oblivion he thought would be his when he would succumb to death was too good of a decease for his abominable life. Was it fare for him to simply vanish when so many who ended the same should have attained the long awaited heavens? 

  As if the body had caught on his silent pondering, his started to ach. At first, it was a light numb that gripped his guts before spreading to reach all extremities and it started, painful and raging, vengeance of a deprived need. World spinning, vision blurry, eyes fiery and nothing to stop it. Kenshin's legs were trying to keep his shaking body in a standing position, but they were failing miserably as he watched the floor rapidly coming to him. He did not felt like falling, more as if the ground was rising to embrace him with a hard connection, hitting him violently, and his sights was nothing but vivid light and the distant echo of feet pounding toward him, the flicker of water that spilled to the floor as a clumsy hand clashed the bucket. A faint whispered. His name in a rasp outtake that sounded caring and worried. Everything seemed to go slower that it should, something falling to the floor and water surrounding him. 

  A delicate hand appeared out of nowhere, hesitant before turning his body around gently so he faced the ceiling and the worried indigo gaze that observed him in the void of darkness that swallowed him. He felt a tearing pang at the heart upon the sight of a soul. No, not that soul, anyone but not this one. He groaned, forcing his eyes close, she must not see their amber glow, must not know his torment. If he push it father, he might fall unconscious, then she would be safe. Her sweet voice, asking the wrongs of his state, his voice too strained to utter a single word. Lids tightly clenched, he ignored the demand to open and take. As he succumbed in deep pain, a far away laughter filled his mind, so much like Saitou's hateful voice when he first witness the Battousai's attempt not to kill. Maybe, just maybe, this time he would not awake and his consciousness would rest, be gone for all it worth, to be lost in the void of nothingness that was his dieing fate. Yes, and she would be safe, her eyes would still be blue in her death, her soul would reach the sky when she would part with her body and he would be in peace, just a piece of thin air that would watched the world in the wait for a soul of his own.

  It would be a bliss…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To be continued………

a/n: I finally gave a name to my thanks to the reviewers. Yup, so one with the "KARYTA'S RAMBLING TO HER LOVELY REVIEWERS" by the way, I got about 10 reviews for the last chap! And to think I thought it was the worst chapter ever… life's strange.

Ferai: Thank you! It's really kind of you to review! I never thought someone would actually go around and review under an author's demand… The action will be coming somewhere around. Maybe next chapter or the one after. Keep up reading, I'll keep writing! ^-^

Aerin-Chan: You were right about Seisou Hen, it's just me who got confused with all the titles… I've not seen Seisou Hen yet, though I got the movie!!! I saw it trice now! Can't get tired of it! About Angel Sanctuary, I got the manga and the OVAs. Me is such a lucky girl ne! ^-^ Don't worry about the cat killing thing, it's just an old saying. I'm just as curious as you, so just don't stop asking questions, as long as they don't sounds the same… Thanks for your compassion, that thing with my friend got better, though he still hints toward me… and it's kinda unnerving. I made Kaoru look a bit like me when I get frustrated and am not able to vent my rage the right way. I personnaly believe that it's better to brake objects than to brake someone's bones, don't you agree? Matsu has her reason to keep Kaoru around, but it'll be explained latter on, so just keep reading! Next time around! ^-^

Ryoko: I think I took a bit longer than entended to update, but thanks for your review!

Serene: Yes, my first language is French. You're from Québec too? Question, what is Tamil? Rather, where does it come from? Never heard of that language before… But yeah, it feels great to know I'm not the only Quebecoise around! I'll be in Montreal for studies in two years… who knows, maybe we'll meet there somewhere. Life sure is weird sometimes ^-^

emsdesire: I'm glad you were happy about it! Question, why do people always as if we'll keep it up when we made it clear that we intended on continuing? Just been wondering, that's all.

omochi: It seems so, but everyone has their bad days… it's just that Kaoru is a special case, always in a bad day it seems… he he. Wait till Kenshin tastes it! That's gonna be a fun thing to see! Match making? (look around in a bad acting of innocence) I don't know what you're talking about…. You know, in the manga, and I suppose in the anime too, when our lovely Rurouni is around Kaoru, he tends to forget many things such as looking out for a boken that is sent toward his head… I got more to come up, so stick around!

D-Chan: Abducted? Come one, I'm not that predictable! Do mind telling me just what make you assume such a cliché thing would get into my fic? I'm not that kind of writer who just rewrite other's idea! I've got my own. But surely, Kaoru will find someone to kick their poor ass… Just wait and see, lil me got very good things up her sleeves! 

Thanks for your reviews everybody! Keep reviewing, it's only with those nice comments that I know I'm doing the right thing! I'll be looking forwards to words from you and will start writing the next chapter as soon as I get a break from my job… he he. Feels nice to say I'm finally working!

   See you guys around!


	8. Chapter Seven

Author's note: It's been a while since I last finished a chapter this early in the evening. Well, early for me, it's almost midnight, but usually I finish a chapter around 3 am if not in early morning after passing a whole night working on it. I'm sorry if it took longer than supposed to, I got a small case of writer's block and was unable to write anything satisfying for the pass few weeks (I believe it's been two weeks… ). Also, I wrote a new story for Rurouni Kenshin, it's titled _Honeysuckles and Moonlight Shreds _(here I insert a bit of self publicity…hehe) So, on with the usual rambling. I've been called a punk! By FBH's little brother. Me? A punk? I'm nothing of the such! Ok, I do have short spiky red hair and a pierced eyebrow… and boots and skater pants… listen to punk, punk rock, metal and hard core music… But it doesn't make me a punk because of it, does it? Just what makes a girl or a boy be a punk anyway? I'm an artist, I dress as I like too, quite strangely sometimes when I decide to add a tie or wear boots with a skirt. So, I'm a really strange girl, but I don't think I'm actually a punk, if I am, than it was not on purpose, I swear! Anyway, enough of this, one with the fic!

Warnings: A bit of insanity maybe and lots of blood.

Disclaimers: Lost my job, yes.. I lost it, but you may already know that. So I don't have a penny. See what I mean?

__

_Within Soul_

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Seven

_            The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched -- they must be felt with the heart._

_                                                                                                                     -Hellen Keller_

  It was believed that in order for your mind to create a dream, one's soul needs to ascend to the gaps between heaven and earth where memories laid. Kenshin was the proof of the saying, he never dreamt, beside the incessant reminder of passed murder that would plague his usually blank sleep. His nigh lone and dark when only his body took the needed rest and his mind was left to unconscious wandering, lost in nothingness such as the void where his spirit should reside. He had not once in his life experienced the pleasure of a dream or the torture of a nightmare. Now, many had no memories of those nightly tale that played when the slumbered, but he just had none. To the small swordsman, the space between the down and rise of the sun was filled with nothing, just a passing moment, such as closing and opening your eyes while blinking, only left with a gap of  4 to 8 hours of no memories. In all, he never dreamt. 

  When he opened his eyes, he was hit full force with the wake of a splitting headache, last remain of a deprived need that left him pained and strained. He felt weak, as helpless as a child. Now if any sought revenge on his assassinations, it would be the perfect time to strike. He would not have the force to fight back, and somehow, he wished someone had the initiative to do such a deed. He had became rather weary of an endless wander, life filled with stealing, forced to witness generation to be born into the world before dieing and giving into the next one, era to rise and fall. He was more than afflicted by the fact he stilled breathed than he thought he would. Before falling unconscious, he had dared hope it would be the end of him. Now he faced the fact of his immortality, knowing fully well that whatever he would do, nothing would bring him down but the sword by which he lived. 

"Wonderful…" he breathed in dripping sarcasm. 

  He vaguely noticed the cold air that swayed around him. The breeze slipping inside through an opened window that filtered the morning's sunlight. Kenshin barely registered the fact that he was resting on a futon, the sheets hugging him as they should, keeping a certain warmth while taking the chill of the surrounding. He blinked a few times, trying to recall his doings of the night before. He remembered the pain and the blue eyes that seek a way to help him while the red head agonized through his unnatural need for bloodshed and death. The memory was a confused trail of images. The rolling of a head as blood rained within a small room, a corps hitting the floor, a woman soaked under the moonlight, so beautiful he was stoked in place, the horror of seeing her stained in red, turning into some kind of deadly goddess, her pale skin glowing as rivulets of scarlet liquid dipped down her face. He just could not replace the events in the right order and recreate the night's events. 

  Sighing, the man turned his head to his left and froze, violet gaze catching the sight of a sleeping form warped in a blanket barely a feet away from his sleeping place. Long ebony hair sprayed around her, falling in inky rivers down her shoulder to surround her delicate frame as a cold shiver shook her sitting body. Her usually cheerful face was wrinkled in displease, not as oblivious as should be in her deep slumber and to the cold air lavishing at her in a forceful way. Her once pink lips taking a bluish hew denoting the fact that she was slowly failing to regain her heat. Seeing this, Kenshin tried to move out of bed and close the evil window that let such cold get to her but he saw the woman's head snap up and her lethargic ocean gaze stared at him for a moment before she swiftly bat her eyelids in an attempt to clear the fog of sleep away from her vision.

"You're awake…" she stated in between shivers.

"I should close that window, that I should," he said as a mean for an answer.

"I purposely left it open last night. You were feverish; it was all I could do to keep you in a normal body temperature."

"You will catch your death if you keep it open," he reprimanded her. 

"Don't worry, it's not a little cold that will kill me," he denoted a sarcasm along her smiling replay. 

"Still…" but he was cut short in his movement to sit up by a cool hand over his forehead, pressing him back into the bed. 

"Don't bother. I'll be alright."

  She gently brushed the crimson locks that had fallen over his face, watching the now perfectly calm amethyst iris that not so long ago had flicked to fiery amber. When Kaoru had came back last night with a bucket full of water, she had never even phantom the possibility of coming to a agonizing Kenshin, moaning in pain as he fell to the floor. All thoughts of her previous loathing had dissipated upon such a sight and soon, all she could think about was tending to this unknown disease that had stroked him. With a strength and a determination that was hers only, she had drug him to his room which was the nearest and hastily searched for possible injuries. Finding none but discovering a rapidly growing fever instead, she tucked him in the futon, opened a window and stood a vigil on him through the long night that followed. 

  As she watched over him, her mind could not pass over the fearful sight of the glowing golden eyes that had met her gaze upon her discovery. They had held so much pain and fright that she felt her heart be tearing apart, her caring nature not able to ignore such a plea. It had plagued her uncomfortable sleep, each time waking her with a start and leaving her pondering on the unnatural feel of such eyes coloring. Never before had Kaoru witnessed such vivid and bright eyes, however, the sight had been short and she could not help but wonder if it had only been a trick of her tired mind. The reality of his pain, thought, had been obvious, and the heated skin, foreteller of a sickness in wake, had pushed the thought back each time she would awake. Although now his skin had returned to a normal temperature as her long fingers brushed the flesh of his forehead in tender gesture. 

  The man had no memory of such tender attention given to him, such a feeling of genuine kindness being foreign to his existence throughout the long years that had pilled since his unfortunate birth into the world. This made him wonder. How someone could so freely give such care to a person she barely knew? Moreover, how should she possibly care for him, out of all people to look after, who begged for attention, love and care? But the soft caress of her fingertips was so much comforting that further thinking seemed irreverent to him. Though enjoying the attention was just as profane as anything else could be. However, the weakened state in which he resided was enough to cloud his judgment and let him enjoy such ministration without so much of a shadow of reticence. 

  Kenshin could get used to such tender gesture even though a part of him forbade it. He opened his heavy lids, trying to see through the blur that his vision had become, results of his drained body, he knew it would not last for very long. Soon, he would regain all of his strength and his consciousness would be pushed aside, turning into what would be best described as a monster, ready to roam and find a pray, to steal yet another soul. He had to get the blue-eyed girl out before his crave was unleashed. Convince her somehow that all he needed was rest. But looking at her worried gaze, he knew such a demand was easier said than done. 

"You look tired, Kaoru-dono. You should get to your room and rest, that you should," he breathed weakly.

"Don't worry about me, the one who needs rest right now, are you," she uttered, the motion of her hand not stopping its gentle come and go over his brows. 

"I assure you that I will be fine… just, let me sleep, I'll be fine in a couple of hours, that I will."

"Kenshin…" but she was cut short in her reprimanding speech.

"Leave…" he said crudely and then took a harsh calming breath before forcing his plea. "Please."

  She sighed, not sure as to how to react to his demand. Her worries were great, but she did not wish to upset him in any way. After much pondering, she smiled sweetly and nodded in agreement, feeling that maybe she was pushing it a bit too far. If he did not needed her help, she would not force him. It might be hard enough for him to accept the fact that he was render quite helpless. 

"If you need anything, just let me know. I'll come and check on you once in a while just in case," she stated firmly.

"Ok, but get some rest yourself, you look livid," said Kenshin knowing that in order to get her out, he had to agree to whatever conditions she had in mind. 

  Her lips curved upward in a caring show of affection and then got to her feet. He watched the blanket in which she had been warp untangled itself from her slim form, reviling an elegant kimono. Why she had been wearing such rich clothing was out of his comprehension, but he was not about to question her on the matter just yet. She padded toward the door and with a last glance in his direction, exited the room, sliding the shoji close softly behind her. The crimson haired swordsman uttered a sigh of relief, she was out of danger, she would get some rest, and her soul would stay alive. That was all he needed to know before his exhaustion took over him and pushed him toward the numb state of his dreamless sleep. When he would wake again, he would be facing a dead body, colorless eyes staring accusingly at him and the guilt of an other useless death weighing on his shoulder, a new painful memory to come and reply itself while he would starve for comfort and get torment in return. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  When Kaoru returned to the room, a tray of miso soup and rice balls in hand, she was met with silence and gloom. The window she had so carefully left open had been shut, the wooden shutter had also been moved so it could serve its purpose, steal the outdoor light away from those who might long for sleep. This could have been perfectly normal, knowing that Kenshin was a very secluded person and might wish some comfortable shadow to sleep, however there was something lingering, not apparent to the careless eyes, which told her something as amiss. Her gaze grazed the depth of the room, seeing naught but a few deformed shadows and different shades of gray and black, the soft glow of the torch fire that lit the corridor was no use, illuminating only the small portion of wooden flooring and the border of the tatamis, stretching her shadow into disproportionate length. The girl cautiously stepped in, the dishes in her tray clicking, not doing much in concealing her presence and she cursed the damn thing. She disposed of it, leaving the food by the door and outstretched her arms as she blindly tried to find her way. 

  It was eerie to say the least, walking blindly, her feet colliding with some unknown objects that were left discarded at random. With her luck, it would not be a surprise if she would fall face first into the hard floor. Then she stopped, how come his room had became so disheveled? When she had left him, everything was neatly place, nothing on the floor but the man and his futon. Kaoru tried to see through the lack of light and moved further in when her bare foot touched something. It was soft and damp, the liquid that soaked it seemed to have sticky proprieties and a shiver of cold fear ran through her. Taking a step back, she glared at the ground, trying desperately to distinguish just what she had stumbled upon. Her eyes getting used to the low light, she could barely discern Kenshin's gi, darken by the mysterious substance that drenched it.

  In the corner, a soft rumbled quaked the silence. Her head snapped in that direction, eyes wide and heart beat wild. In the obscurity, a form was outlined, unmoving, their back turned. A ragged breath resounded and she moved further away, reaching the other wall opposite from the form that awaited in that corner. There, her ankle grazed the helm of a lamp. Not really thinking, the black haired young woman hunker down, her hand blindly looking for the lamp while the other retrieved the matches that she always kept in her obi, cracking one and then gave the fire to the light producing object, creating a soft glow that speared through the room, giving a gory life to the leaping shadows. 

  There, in the corner, bare from chest to waist, was a very silent and blank Kenshin. His long hair left undone, cascading down his broad shoulders and manly back like a scarlet waterfall. He did not seem to notice her presence, nor did he acknowledge the fact of the sudden light. He stayed there, facing the wall in contemplative silence. Behind him was his gi, drenched with a red liquid that had started to stain the tatami on which it had be left forgotten. Horror griped her in all its bitter, stomach turning force, rendering her to a shivering form firmly pressed to the wall and she pressed her hand to her mouth in an attempt to conceal the gasp that threatened to escape. The swordsman, as if in a trance, fixed his hands, bloodied and dripping in crimson drops, transfix. She observed the man as he turned and turned again his hand, palms up, palms down, doing the same gesture times and times again, watching the scarlet fluid slid around them, like a child not nearly understanding what he saw. 

  It was only then that she realize how lost he felt, watching in dazed silence this bloodied fingers. His old hakama were just has stained as the discarded gi, the crimson blot incrusted to it, as if it had absorbed every drops of the sanguine fluids. She swallowed her fear and got to her trembling feet, one hand reaching for his shoulder hesitantly. As Kaoru moved to touch him, his voice stopped her, deep and far away as he spoke softly.

"Don't," was all he said.

"But Kenshin…" she let the sentence trail off, not knowing exactly what she could say.

"Don't come any closer. I will only stain you further."

"Ken… shin…"

"I'm a monster…" he whispered, voice barely audible. 

"Don't say such horrible things, you're not…" he would not let her finish.

"I am!" it sounded harsh, loud in self-reproach, and so painful. "I killed, countless times, will do it again. I'm lost in a damned circle of perpetual death, never to see the end of it."

"You do it for what you believe is true," she tried to console him.

"Not this… not that way, not by shattering existence itself!"

  He turned his head toward her, his eyes flashing amber, fiery, forceful and powerful. She took a step back, startled by the mere sight of such a vibrant gaze; it seemed that it could burn her very soul. Breath catching in her throat, living her speechless, breathless. Ocean blue locked with golden orbs, seeing more than should be seen, catching that tiny glimpse of fear, of loathing, that lingered deep within. Lost, as a child, inner demons lurching inside, eating his core, feasting upon his very being, leaving him confused, tiered maybe, and completely adrift and disoriented. Lone, as the soul survivor of a fierce battle, watching over and over again the memory of his fallen friends, dissipated family and sacrificed beloved. Scared, as a dieing man, seeing his life slipping away from him as the blade of the enemy pierced his heart, devoured by pain. Powerful, as a fierce tiger, ready to bounce on his pray, fangs bared and deadly, calculating and intelligent but soft and loving when touched at the right place. It was all there, in his amber eyes, shining, swirling, never to leave, forever lingering within their depth. 

"Kenshin…"

  She could not resist the overwhelming feeling inside, it pushed her to reach out for him, to tell him everything was alright, that he was not stained, not a monster, that he was Himura Kenshin, caring, loving, beautiful inside as most were if not more. Gently, her fingertips touched his brows, shoving away the crimson strands of free hair, watching attentively his reaction as they played over his eyes. He seemed startled, staring down at her tender blue eyes, not able to discern efficiently what she thought. Kaoru then let her finger caress down to his scared cheek, but kept her gaze locked with his, not once wavering, steady in all their caring watching. He gave the impression of being frozen in place, not comprehending her soft touch or the feeling that it created. 

  She bit at her bottom lip, grazing the flesh with her white teeth and than southing it with a reflexive lick of her rosy tongue. He was spellbound, lost in a moment of perfect silence as she returned the compassion he once gave her. Kaoru's other hand soon joined the first, fingering the silky texture of his sanguine locks and the velvet touch of his skin, starting to forget what had pushed her to do it. Kenshin closed his eyes and lined into her careful touch, the feel of her hand beautiful to him, better than anything he ever experienced. His arms had dropped, hanging about his waist, the blood that covered them a far away memory and the pain of his mind lost in distant musing as he simply enjoyed what she generously gave.

  The crimson haired swordsman fluttered his lids open to look at her sapphire gems, which had never ceased to observe him. Something inside broke, suddenly, as unknown to him as it had been, it just disappeared, a wall, maybe a shield he had erected for self protection or maybe someone else's, whatever it had been, it was gone and he was now bending forward, his gaze switching from her glittering iris to her soft, pink and inviting lips. He had became obsessed with them in the space of milliseconds, all he could think of was those pert lips, demanding attention, calling him in sultry whispers. Try as he might, he was irresistibly drown toward them, like a magnet to an opposite pole, a bee to a flower, a moth to light with probably the same deadly effect. Everything but her was irrelevant, cast in shadow, gone with the wind, leaving him with one single thought, a crave, a need for something else, something he had never wanted until now. 

  Slowly, the gap that separated them was closed, as he tentatively brushed his mouth over hers, lightly, barely touching, observing her reaction to his touch. She did not shy away, did not move or seemed to be scared, she just watched him, her eyes intense, a deeper indigo, like the night, and small sparkle of dancing silvery stars lingering in their entrancing depth. Kenshin tired again, this time, longer but just as gentle but as he was about to retire again, she closed her lids and leaned in, her hands keeping his face to hers. Everything was shut away, giving in and leaving his lips to tease hers sweetly. His hands returned to life as one was brought up to cup her cheek, blood forgotten as it left as red print on her pale skin. His free arm circled her waist, drawing her closer to him as he crushed his lips in a developing kiss, nipping at the bottom one and she surrounded to him completely. 

  His bare chest could feel the soft fabric of her kimono and through it, the roundness of her breasts as Kaoru hugged herself to him, arms resting around his shoulder. Kenshin's fingertips were gentle, fingering the flesh of her cheekbone before getting lost in the mass of her long ebony strands, her ribbon having come undone somehow, leaving them to flow in a river of ink. He opened his eyes, wishing to see her through half open lids and was met with the horror of his hand printed on her cheek. His gaze had returned to their usual violet and were wide in shock. He pushed away, sizing her by the shoulders, leaving the space of an arm in between them. She stared at him, just as astounded as he seemed to be but not for quite the same reason.

"I've stained you…" he whimpered. "Stained you."

  She looked bewildered, his statement completely alien to her understanding. She tried to reach out to him again but he firmly kept her away. Kenshin could not let this beautiful woman be soil by his darkness and bloodied heart. She was compassion made human, unreal to this world, one of a kind, precious and forbidden to him, whatever he was feeling for her at the moment or previously, he had no right to it. Even though he longed to kiss her again, even though he desired something in her that was not her soul, even though her internal beauty and alluring exterior called him forward, coxed him toward her, he could not let it be. 

"I've stained you…" he repeated like a mantra, something to convince himself that it was wrong to get closer, that she deserved more.

"Kenshin…"

  He shook his head, no, he could not give in. The Choshu assassin let go of Kaoru and turned his attention to the floor, looking for a specific something and spotted it near the low table behind him. He bent and retrieved a rag cloth and returned to the girl who was watching his every move in utter perplexity. He gently reached for her left cheek where the blood stained accused him in all it horrid glory, vivid contrast to her pure flesh. He gingerly cleansed it, wiping it off with careful and loving hand all the while his red strand shielding his gaze. 

"What are you doing?" she inquired. 

"I'm cleaning your face, that I am. You must remain pure," he answered.

"Pure? You think I'm pure?" his lack of answer was talking clearer than any words could. "You're a fool Kenshin if you think I'm pure"

  She vehemently pushed his hand away, anger clear in her face as her eyes blazed in fury. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not innocent, not pure, far from it! I'm just as stain as you might think you are!" she yelled.

  He watched her, puzzled, as she rushed toward to door, muttering a few wisely chose curses and then flashed a hard look at him. Her blood boiling in rage, she had become once again that forceful typhoon everyone seemed to fear. He stayed there, bloody clothe in his bloody hand, lavender gaze still lost in self-loathing. How she hated it, that look of guilt, that seemed to eat him out, turning him to a pathetic man she knew he was not. But he was too blind to even see that, too self centered and egoist to understand that he was not the only one who did wrongs, that he was not by any means the sole sinner upon their rotten earth.

"You're an idiot, Kenshin. An egocentric idiot that can't see farther than his nose, too lost in his own reproach to see anything else beside his own self," and with that, the shoji were forcefully close, making the walls weaver under the strength of her swing. "I've brought you miso soup and rice balls, eat them if you wish, I've got things to do!"

  He stared at the door and then at the food platter that rested beside it, seemingly cold. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued………_

_a/n: _I didn't get many review this time, but you know what? As desperate for critics as I may be, I don't care anymore. Review if you like, don't if you're not feeling like it. I'm just tired of it.

"KARYTA'S INDIVIDUAL THANKING TO HER LOVELY REVIEWERS"

Jason M. Lee: Strange… I thought you had figured it out yet.. maybe I'm a little to vague sometimes. Sorry if I confused you. By the way, next time, try and not submit three identical reviews. ^-^

Kakarlena Tsuquoi: Thanks, but I don't think it was that long though. 

Aerin-Chan: Yeah, I sold donuts for a week and then got fired… T-T Wasn't good enough, said I paniced each time I had more than one thing to do. So I'm back to the eternal search for a summer job. The worst part is that I don't think I'll be able to keep working, if I get one, once school starts again. But I didn't had to cook, though I'm far much better a cook Kaoru can be. The title of the movie is Ichinchi shi Hem no Rekuiem, and it's wonderful! ^-^. If you're curious about what happen after the OVA, I know of a site with the manga scan of the serie. It's omanga.cjb.net and it's great! Curious? That's not even a good enough word to describe how much I am. Usually, I ask so many questions that even my teachers are starting to get annoyed. How could I cut it? Well, it would've gotten way too long and I was eager to get that chapter out. Matsu will make an other apparition soon… I think. I hope that now you know who's that bathing woman. Don't worry about your heart, I don't even think Tomoe would appear here, though she is in an other fic of mine. That would be a good idea, I was looking for a proof reader, so if you're up to it, say so and I'll send you the next chapter as soon as its done. Hope you liked this chapy… it got quite interesting in the end, didn't it?

omochi: Thanks, but I lost it… Not that I didn't worked hard, but… well, it just wasn't meant to be. I didn't even got the chance to try those ice cappuccino… but if I were you, I'd stop drinking those thing… not that it's not good, but it's not even made of real coffee… But don't get me wrong, it's nothing dangerous, it's just that I'm a bit on the natural kind of food. That indigo thing? Um… I do know what's going to happen with it… but you don't! mwahahahah*caugh, caugh* (think I need to work on the evil laughing a bit more)

emsdesire: Yes, I'm an evil writer, so there should be a couple more evil endings to come…hehe. I'm happy you like it, ^-^

Lady E: I'm glad you find it fascinating. It took me sometime to work it out, and I still have some trouble with it… but I'm not telling you in which issue because I would give the story away!

Female Hitokiri Battousai: Hey, as promised, a bottom note along with the e-mail. I hope I didn't scare you away the other day. I can easily get carried away. By the way, I was only kidding with your brother, you know. Trying to scare him off, don't think it worked as I thought it would. I don't understand why, last time, it worked perfectly fine with my friend's brother, but of course, I was in front of him and could easily kick his but if he didn't understood that I was joking around. Anyway, it had been fun talking to you (though I hate talking through the mic… I don't like my voice and I'm not good with speeches, I'm clumsy when it comes to talk. I'm more at ease with a keyboard than anything else. Should work on that, next time, force me into talking, it'll get me less shy if I work on it a bit ^-^) Hope you'll like this chapter! And that it answered your question, if not, I'll tell you who the woman by the basin was.

  Well, thank you every one. I love your reviews so much I would eat'em! Ok, I'm off now, see you guys around! (don't forget to leave a review, it's the button just at the bottom right corner, yes, that one over there, click on it! *sorry, couldn't resist.. hehe*)


	9. Chapter Eight Rated R

Author's note: I'm soooooo sorry it took me thins long. There was the moving, my parents coming over, those other stories I'm writing at the same time (really not a wise thing to do) and Harry Potter… (don't ask). But I gotta say, I love my new apartment. It's SO much better than my old tiny rental room. Being in a place that I can call MY place is so great. But it's costs very much… Anyway. Today's useless rambling.. um… I recently started listening to old music. Well, the music I used to listen to when I was in elementary school (it's been a while… I suddenly feel so old!) You know, back then I didn't understood a word of what I was signing. For example, Nirvana. When you're nine years old and don't understand a word of English even if your life would depend on it, you don't understand why people laughs at you when you sign 'I'm so happy cause today I found my friends, they're in my head…' Now that I think about it… I must have looked like a fool singing all by myself such a song. No wonder I got scowled by my English teacher… hehe. But honestly, I missed those old songs. Nirvana, Guns and Roses, Metalica and company… It was great! (I know what you're thinking, nine years old and she was listening to that kind of music! Remember that my parents don't understand English and I didn't do any better back then. I liked the sound of it...) And of course, I had my Boy's Band pass too. But I don't really want to talk about it… I did it only so I could blend in with the rest of my friends. Really, the things you do to be part of the crowd… Anyway. For making up to the long wait, you got yourself a VERY long chapter with something extra too… hehe. Please, read the warning. Yes, that writing in bold letters.

**!!!WARNING!!! This chapter contains adult material that is meant only for mature readers. Pass your way if you are under age. You have been dully warned. !!!WARNING!!!**

Disclaimers: All rights of Rurouni Kenshin are copyrights of Watsuki-sama. This piece of fiction is for entertainment purpose only and no profits are made out of it.

**_Within Soul_**

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Eight

_What happens is less important than the way you react to it._

_                                                                       -Jean Rostand_

  He saw a young woman exist the room, the shoji doors sliding quite forcefully to a close as she zoomed down the corridor, the sound of her footsteps her only companion in the cold darkness of the night. He knew now that the time had come to act, his plan would fall in place soon and bring the demise he had sought. Soon, very soon, he would strike and no one, not even Hittokiri Battousai would have see it coming.

  A sinister grin crossed is shadowed face. He knew the weakness, now all he had to do was to grasp it and use it to his profit. It was in the downfall of those two unusual beings that laid the destruction of a revolution. In the end, power of the body was noting compared to the force of one mind. The onlooker uttered a chuckle as he turned, only a whisper of laughter in his wake. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Kaoru sat in front of her low writing table, her brush dripping in deep black ink hovering over the paper in her trembling hand. The blank piece of rice paper staring at her as she willed her eyes to dry. She could not let herself be so moved by mere feelings. Having worked so hard to clear her mind of those things that would render her weak and useless to the purpose of her staying. Blinking rapidly, willing to upcoming tears away as her vision blurred, she had to stay strong. She shook her head, midnight strands flying in every possible direction, no longer bound by the usual ribbon, she ought to clear her mind and forget the ach that slowly gripped her heart in a painful contraction. Flashes of many times, many moments forced themselves in her brain, weakening her concentration, making her forget her priorities. It should not have happened, not that way, not at that moment. This simple brush of lips, the wake of a passion was what could destroy everything, what could endanger the revolution. She had become weak and weakness, pathetic and easy pray if this ever came to the ears of the enemy. 

  Slowly, forcing control over her hand, she pushed her writing tool to the paper, trying to see the words amid her mist eyes. Her mission was coming to an end, she could not let such circumstance fog her mind and drive her away from her work, from the only reason she suffered so much. She would not allow misery to befall her yet again. Through the years of pain and hurt, Kaoru had fortified her body, strengthen her mind, willed herself to be strong. She simply could not fall back to be the fragile girl she once was. That girl was dead, along with the cheerful memories of childhood and love. 

  The hard hair of her brush glided smoothly along the page as the words were absorbed into the paper, the ink reflection the soft glow of the candle. Her hard work had fructified, she could see the end coming, and although her burden felt heavy over her lithe shoulders, she knew the weight would soon be remove off her. The knowledge of such thing was what had kept her going through the pass few days. Very soon, she would be back to her real home, ready to forget and start anew. The girl sniffed, a tear sliding down her pretty face to fall down her chin and finish its race on the paper, marking it with a small swallow circle that, she was sure of it, would not come unnoticed.

   Outside, the fall of fluffy flacks of frozen water had ceased, leaving the town under a wide and glittering coat of pure white snow. And just as the last flack hit the ground under her tightly shut widow, she her letter was finished. The sun, pale and frosty, peered over the horizon, the rays of cold yellow shoot over the city, making the snow shine such as so many diamonds covering the frozen ground. The crisp air of winter slipping in the house, making her shiver ever so lightly, her mind elsewhere, far from the cold of the resting season. 

  Kaoru rose from her knelling position, the letter safely warped in it light blue envelop, she pilled her clothes off. Her indigo pools searched through her trunk where the rest of her clothing were, her white hand pushing layers aside. Retrieving the garment she sought, smoothing any wrinkles off the silky fabric more in a reflex gesture than anything, she pulled the clothes on, donning her obi without even thinking about it. She was tired, exhausted, weary, but had to keep going. Her eyes rimed with dark rings that made her look thinner than she actually were. Slowly sliding her door open, her gaze focus on the wooden floor, she did not see the man standing there and rammed into him, not as forcefully as she would usually mind you, but still hit him. Looking up, she met small dark eyes, a long nose from under which a moustache grew along with a neglected beard of few hairs. 

"Good morning, Kaoru-san," said the man with a rasp voice she did not like.

"Good morning," she replied, clutched the blue letter to her unconsciously.

"Have you slept well?" he inquired following her as she padded her way to the kitchens.

"Very well, thank you," Kaoru lied, adverting her gaze, trying to hide the sing of exhaustion that would betray her.

"You know," he started the tone of his voice foretelling nothing good. "I heard someone say you coming out of Himura's room early this morning."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I was wondering just what you were doing there."

"Himura-san had been ill lately, I was merely doing my job, Iizuka-san."

"I thought he was on duty yesterday…"

"He has things to do like everyone, Iizuka-san. I'm not one to tell him to stay in. I just do my work," she felt irritation grip her guts as the man kept following her. 

"He never comes out of his room, does he?"

"Why do you care?" her temper was rising fast.

"Just wondering. You seem to be the only one he talks to."

"It's his business who he befriends with…"

"You know, there are rumors going around that…"

"Iizuka-san, if it is to ask me to share your bed again, I am not a whore," she cut him in his speech. "Now, if you don't mind, I have duties that I must attend."

"I was just telling you what the other warriors where saying."

"Well, I don't care. They can think whatever they please. It is none of my concern."

  With that, she slid the door of the kitchen right to his face with such force that the walls were left wavering. Matsura, kneeling at the low table as usually, glared at her whishing the girl would control her boiling temper once in a while. The old woman surveyed her from head to toes, catching the air of tiredness that surround her as the girl sighed and turn an exhausted face to the elder, forcing a thin smile to her pale face. 

"You seem rather fatigued, child."

"Hum? Oh, it's nothing really, Matsu-san."

  But the ancestor only observed her more intensely, as if she had not heard a word. Kaoru would not usually burst through a door without a good reason, lest slam it shut. Something had gone wrong, or someone said or did the wrong thing to her. The thought of one of her pensioner doing something to the wild girl made her smile. If it was so, then that person would be moaning in pain somewhere within the inn. It took her a fare amount of self control not to scout the halls in search for the unlucky man. 

"Had something happen?"

"Matsu-san, nothing happen, really" said the girl with a pleading look.

"Alright, if you say so. Oh, you got a message early this morning," said the old woman waving an blue envelope.

  Kaoru's indigo eyes darkened as they settled on the paper that the elderly woman held. Frowning, she snapped it from the hands that were holding it, fearing deeply the words it contained. Kneeling at the table in front of Matsura, ignoring the indignant stare she got from the ancestor and ripping it open, glaring at the kanji that would soon become destiny. She read through it trice, her mind in turmoil, knowing exactly what the encoded word meant, one of her delicate hand rounded in a tight fist that did not much in concealing her anger and demise. 

_Kill the rat as soon as possible. The infestation can't keep going without devastating results. _

_Tonight, the cat will do kill the rat. Show it to him._

_Then the raccoon will once again be free._

"Kaoru-chan? Is everything alright? You seem rather pale," inquired the old woman.

"I…" she looked blankly at the one person who had seemed to care for her since her rather awkward arrival a year ago. "It's alright… I'll… go and start the laundry…"

"Wait!" hailed Matsura before the girl could reach for the door. "Himura-san has got this at the same time as you."

  She gave the young woman a scarlet red envelope, which Kaoru eyed with a tight knot in her throat. She nodded and left, a sickening feeling gripping her guts, fear clouding her mind for some unknown reason. She walked blindly through the halls, walking passed sleepy men, obvious to their heated stare, ignoring the whispered words, echoes of rumors she knew had spread over the Kyoto's inn. Kaoru had heard of those long before the disgusting Iizuka had told her. She had not cared about them, knowing men could be the worst gossiping magpie around. Even though, yesterday, those sayings could have become true. That thought lingering within her mind, she reached the feared door and reaching for her lacking courage, she knocked softly. There was a low rustle behind the shoji before it slid open, revealing a half dressed red-headed warrior who's purple stare gaped at her shyly. __

"You… You received a letter this morning…" she breathed out forcing her gaze away from his chest.

"Really?" he seemed quite taken aback.

"Yes… here," she handed the red envelope and turned to leave but something kept her in place.

  Looking back, she saw he had caught her wrist and his usually confident lavender depth were staring down at the ground, avoiding her interrogative eyes. His breath sounded shallow somehow, his jaw tightly clenched for a reason that was yet to be discovered. Kaoru stood there, waiting for whatever the man had to say, her heart beating fast although she tried to keep it steady.

"Kaoru-dono… I…"

"Don't worry about it, Himura-san. I understand…" she whispered.

  The girl pulled herself free, his fingers caressing her hand, lingering on her long fingers. Lifting his gaze, he only caught a glimpse of her retreating back. Sighing, the Choshu's assassin closed the door, his mind elsewhere, back to the moment his lips had taste hers. He shook his head, wild tendrils of scarlet silk flying around him; he would not dwell over that event again. It was bad enough that it kept him from sleep most of the night. But it had felt so good, so soft, it was worst than going over Hercules's works ten times over than stay cold to that memory. It was strange though, never before has a woman caught his attention such as she did, tempting him enough to give into those glorious pink lips of hers. Kenshin felt his cheeks grow hot, his blood boiling. Still, Kaoru was a total mystery to him. When he had thought her pure and said so, she fumed in anger, shouting loud and clear how great his mistake was in thinking so. 

  What was so terrible to make her think she was tented, he wondered. In all his encounters, and there was many in his ever lasting life, she was the sweetest and most fresh thing his eyes had seen. Of course, he knew parts of her past that was nearly as horrible as his, and yet he knew she did not even told him half of it. Maybe it was in that shadowed aria of her previous years that laid the secret of her impurity. Closing his eyes, a faint sight escaped his lips, getting lost in the stillness of the darken room. As the purple orbs reopened, he caught a blue something in the corner, something silky and undoubting feminine that just did not belonged there. He knelt down in front of the foreign object, fingering the thing carelessly before picking it up. It was the indigo ribbon he had found that night. It had looked as lost in that strange man's room as it did in his. So delicate and sweet with the unmistaken fragrance of a gentle woman. 

  Suddenly, his lavender pools widen as recognition fell on him, he had seen this peculiar thing before, binding silky strands of inky black hairs. No, it could not be, she could not have been there. The mere thought of it seemed like an insult to everything that she was. She was not the only one with a blue ribbon such as this one, she was not the only one who's fragrance seemed to be a mix of winter crisp and jasmine… Who was he kidding. She had been there, there were no doubts. What would happened if she were still there when he came to do his murderous duty? He did not even dared to phantom the possibilities. Letting go of the accusing blue silk, he turned to the other corner of his tiny ward, his gaze falling on his bloody clothing and then turning back to the ribbon. She were right, as usual. No one is as pure as they seem. Even angels could taint their wings with blood. If only he knew why.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  She hated to crawl the long, incessant corridors at night, no, she despised it deeply. It was like a hatred that griped at her heart so firmly that it hurt. She felt like death, roaming the roads of night and darkness, her scythe ready for the kill, but instead of the deadly weapon, she had a red cloth, as deep as the scarlet liquid the flood through veins. The cold air the slipped through windows that had been carelessly closed hit the sole of her feet sending shivers up her spine. The helm of her long yakuta rimmed the floor, her low padding on the wood soften by that makeshift sound isolation dome. One last time, she thought, one last death and she would be free, her job would be done and she would have repaid her father's unusual debt. Then she could get rid of the reminder, than she would be able to imagine him as the righteous man she believed he was. She would be able to return to her illusion self, believing all that 'bullshit' they had served her as a child, ready to swallow it all again and be lost into it, smile and act as though it was good. Kaoru would be herself again. No more sneaking, no more eavesdropping, no more… She closed her eyes tightly at the memory of the last. So many sacrifices, so much death for the sake of something that was not very clear, even to those who fought for it. 

  Whoever said that the Bakumatsu was such a whirlwind of endless fighting in total confusion were right. It was hard to tell which side was the right one. But when so many suffered, what else could one do but help and bring something new, lend a hand to build an utopist world upon the rotten bodies of those who perished protecting what the believed? She turned a corner, her mind elsewhere but her body working as if moving all by itself. It the epoch had new of robots, she could have easily been compare to one of those automats who blindly did what they were told. Reaching her destination, her mind came back to her body and the girl was left facing a door not unlike many other doors in the inn. Sighing, she knelt and disposed of the red cloth, sighing inwardly. She was done. Closing her dark blue eyes, she allowed a small smile to spread across her tired features. There would no longer be any rats, so no more use for the raccoon, and the cat would be left alone without any more distraction to do his job. 

  Slowly, as soft as the wind, she strode soundlessly back to her room, trying to forget about the mess she would have to clean in the morning before any one could discover the bloody vision that would soon be room 2.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Hidden by the deep layers of shadow that night lend to those who wished for cover, a man followed the young girl, something scarlet in his hand and a devilish smile playing on his darken face. She tiptoed back to her room, looking left and right for any sign of stalker of any kind, a feeling of dread nagging at the back of her mind. Careless she was. Slowly, her door slid open and she walked in, uttering the barest of sigh, her gracious face catching a glitter of moon light that had filtered through her window. The unknown man got a glimpse of her glorious blue eyes before she closed the shoji. How careless she had been. The once faint smirk spread to a full dangerous grin as a deep feeling satisfaction swell inside. Her carelessness would bring her demise. Too bad he did not had the chance to taste her beauty, but for the sake of his life, sacrifices had to be make. The rat shall survive whilst the raccoon perish under the blade of the vengeful cat. As the shadowy man left, the only thing that remained, a blood red scarf, the mark of death she had put down would soon be her own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Kenshin stared down at the two pieces of paper he had received that day. The first, in a black envelop, given to him by Iizuka as usually, telling him to kill someone he just could not believe should die. The other, in a red envelop, had come to him by the hands of Kamiya Kaoru, ordered him not to take the first in consideration and just find the red scarf as he once did. Something was wrong, very wrong. As the redhead roamed the dark corridors of the inn, his senses awake and ready, the warrior tried to reach some kind of concentration that would always venture away from his grasp. 

  The earlier events of the week had confused him more than he would let it show. Somehow, his guilt and self-loathing seemed to reach a pick, leaving him in complete darkness. He was not known for his pessimistic way, while many of his kind would drown in deep depression, he stood strong hoping one day he would find a way out of his misery. But, now that more complicated feelings seemed to be awaken within his damned being, everything seemed much darker and hopeless. When he thought he had found a ray of light in his hole of eternity, he realized that no light, no matter how brilliant, could save him from his condition. Who was he to hope for salvation when he was not even meant to be?

  He had walked through the greater part of the building and still no sign of the red cloth he sought. He was now reaching the staff quarters when he found it, laying so frustratingly innocent in front of a door he wished it would not be. Swallowing hard, feeling a weight heavier that a thousand over feed elephants, he gripped his sword, closing his lavender eyes, feeling numbing ach all over his lightly shaking body. The door slid open soundlessly and he scanned to room for its occupant. There she laid, sleeping, a childish smile softening her charming features. Like an angel, she breathed slowly, lost in a sea of dreams he could never have. She was beauty, she was purity, she was innocence made human, and he would be the one to destroy it. 

  He observed her, a sense of awe growing within him. This could not be true, he could not bring himself to even start believing it. After fighting so hard inside to preserve her life and paying the price dearly, he now faced her with shaking hands, frozen in place, staring at her magnificence, wishing her away from him. 

"No…" he breathed out, not able to restrain the negation.

  She stirred in her oblivious slumber, unaware of his turmoil. The sound of metal grinding his sheath reverberate over the walls, its echo coming back to him ten folds. Wake, angel and save yourself from soulless demon, you do not belong to sins. Kenshin took a step closer to her, his entire body quivering, his breath coming out rapidly along with the pace of his bruised heart. How he wished he were elsewhere, away from this accusation that hovered over her head such as Damocles' Sword. And he would be the one to cut the invisible string and end her life, his sword that should protect her would be the blade to ravish her breath and guide her violently to eternal sleep. The mere thought of spilling her blood sicken him. 

  He rose the katana above his scarlet head, flashes of her spreading through is mind's eyes. Her gentle smile, her carefree spirit, her gentleness, those moment of quietude she had given him. Those lovely moments passed with her were relived at the same time as the deadly blade came down toward her unprotected neck. 

  He could see it, as she crashed into him the first time, food sprawled on the floor and the pain of her knee hitting his guts twice in a row. 

  And the sword kept falling mercilessly, everything was in slow motion.

   She had fallen on him again, given him a name, he gave her ribbon back, she had smiled at him, how he loved that smile. 

  The steel got closer to her pale, almost ghostly body, fragment of seconds by fragment of seconds it grow closer. 

  The water splattered around in clear, translucent, shining drops and she fought against rebellious clothes, he had show her how to wash, she had tend to the whole that his vacant soul had left. 

  Closer and closer it descended ready to cut her flesh. 

  She laid under the stars, broken and lonely, the story of her life an horrific tale he wished to take away from her and he could feel himself slowly fall for her, when friendship flourished into deep affection and the seed of something close to love bloomed within his bloodied heart. 

  His blade would soon slash her. 

  Her lovely eyes watching him, tending to his feverish body while he craved for something stronger than life, she was not scared, she cared. 

  He would kill her.

  Her lips gently brushing his as he gave into temptation, not able to resist her any longer.

  He would kill her.

  She had felt so soft under his touch, leaving him with a deep ach such as a healing wound would.

  He would kill her.

  He would kill her…

  His eyes flashed open, lost lavender meeting fearless velvet blue, a gentle gasp catching in her throat barely before it could completely escape it, his blade millimeters away from it and she laid motionless on her futon. Her hair, ink spread over white beddings, her breath slow as she stared at him, searching his eyes, questioning him without a word. He fell to his knees, the weapon thrown away, hitting the floor non to gently, tears pearling on his face, hands shaking as her fingers slowly circled his wrist and she rose to a half sitting, half laying position, her face so close to his, he could feel her gentle breath on his moisten cheek. A soft hand reached his face, it felt like velvet, her touch so tender it pained him. Her hold on his wrist tighten and his face was brought down to meet hers as a gentle kiss touched his nose, her lips trailing down toward his mouth, catching it so softly, taking his breath away. 

  Something inside him broke, as if all his resolve shattered under the power of her care. He closed his eyes, he was lost the moment their lips had meet. Throughout the eternity that his life had last, never before had he felt so much passion, so much hunger, so much love toward a single being. It exploded within him, and he could no longer control himself. He did not exactly know how it happened, nor where it had came from, how his affection to her turned into such an overwhelming desire and burning love, but it did, and he could no longer deny it.

"Kaoru…"

  Her name had escaped him, and it had sounded so soft he was not sure if he had voiced it out-loud. Her finger trailed down his face, buried in his long bright red hair, her lips dancing upon his, her tongue nipping at his bottom lip, making him gasp, and it invaded his mouth. He grunt as her taste flowed over him. Her sent reached his nose, sweet and enticing. He were no longer aware of his doings as his free hand spread to life, catching the arm that kept her balanced, touching the soft fabric of her sleeping yakuta. Kaoru uttered a soft sound in between startle and pleasure. She was prepared for many things in life, but not once had she ever thought she would awake to a deadly assassin and a second later she would be kissing him this way. 

  She freed the arm she had held capture, hers reaching up to enrolled around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Since the first time she had felt his lips, she craved for more, and now there he was, willing and wild, his blood boiling for her. The blankets were pushed off her through her silent struggling to get to him, her legs left bare and tempting as the soft, silvery light of the moon danced upon her creamy flesh. Her cheeks flushed, she felt his hand slowly grip her thigh, pulling her clothes further away as he fingered the smooth skin. Kaoru moaned softly, the sound barely reaching his ears, and she guided him down. His lips left hers to roam over her face, and then slowly glide down to her throat, finding her pulsing heart and nipping gently at it, turning her blood to fiery liquid. 

  Kenshin wandering hands parted the folds of her clothes, finding her breasts free of bindings and tender under his burning touch. Instincts only guided him, savoring slowly each discovery, keeping those moments of unique bliss jealously secluded in his aching heart. He laid open mouth kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts, pushing the white folds further apart, exposing more and more of her delicious flesh. Where this hunger and passion came from? He did not know. But as it burnt stronger within him, his restrains long forgotten, he did not cared where the beginning laid. She was his to take, wild and willing, and he would not be denied. 

  While the assassin turned lover nipped lovingly at the new wonders of the feminine body, Kaoru did not stay inactive. Her fingers had found the knot of his sash, working swiftly it came undone, revealing his chest to her hungry eyes. Her hand wandered over his skin freely, feeling the muscles hard under amazingly soft flesh and he groan against her chest. She gasp as he hot mouth found her nipple and he discovered yet an other wonderful thing. He licked it, nipped it, bit it gently before licking it again, his tongue moving in circle. Her hands were lost in his long scarlet strands, pushing his face to her, her breath becoming a rapid in and outtake, her hear pounding wildly, driving him mad. 

  He switched his attention to the other one, one hand massaging the first, his free hand caressing her face. She took hold of it and slowly, directed it down, their fingers entwining as they passed over her soft stomach. The belt of her sleepwear had somehow come undone. She lead him lower still until his fingers touched her aching core and she uttered a soft, pleading moan, showing Kenshin just how to touch her. Kaoru's back arced, Kenshin's face thrown deeper into her chest and she pushed against his hand. His senses were enhance, smelling her arousal mix with the sweet fragrance that was hers only. Every soft whimpers and shallow breathing clear to his ears, her taste flowing his mind. 

"Ken…shin…"

  Her voice lost in sweet agony called to him. His mission, his duty, the many lives he had taken, they were all forgotten in the haze of passion. All there was left was her and what he could give and get from her. Her hand griped his shoulders, nails dipping into his flesh painlessly and her moans more frequent as she felt it building inside her. But Kaoru wanted more than this release, she wanted him. Him on her, him in her, him all over her, just him and what he could give to her, what she could give to him. 

"Not… not now.. not without.. you…" she whispered completely lost in the feeling.

  He did not quite understood what she meant and thus, kept his gentle stroking of her fire, pushing a finger inside and causing her more pleasure then before, her body quivering and her breath uneven. Her blue eyes flew open, a deep gasp escaping her partly open mouth, and Kenshin kept ravishing her chest. Such torture called to immediate action and her hand slowly, shaking, dived into his hakama, reaching his throbbing arousal and stroking it gently. With a deep groan, Kenshin's mouth left her breasts, his head thrown back, mind lost in the pleasure she gave him. Never before had he felt something this good. Her long finger fallowing his length up and down, her thumb running circles over his tip, it was pure, white, hot bliss. He panted, his breath hard and rasp, catching in his throat. So many sensations, all at once, gripping at him. 

  Not knowing any better way, he kissed her hard, lips bruising and the feeling getting stronger, so powerful he thought he would burst. Kenshin released her mouth, searching his breath, his forehead resting over her shoulder, trying to calm his racing heart, the pleasure getting more instance as Kaoru squeezed him gently, her fingers working wonders over his sex. Lifting his head, the red-head stared at her, purple orbs searching blue iris, wanting to know what was happening, why he felt so good, why she was the one to give him such delight. He seemed lost, not knowing what would happen, but loving this sweet torture. She nipped lovingly at the junction of his neck and shoulder, using her free hand to push his pent down, stripping him of his gi soon after, leaving him naked to her appreciative gaze. 

  She stopped her teasing, feeling that she could no longer wait, the aching being to much to bare. Slowly, Kaoru showed him the way, feeling him stretch her inner self so wonderfully it could hurt. Kenshin uttered a blissful groan he pushed all the way in. Her warmness, her wetness, it was heaven. He did not need any more guidance, his primal instincts taking over; he pulled out and pushed in tentatively, earning himself a low, delightful moan from Kaoru. Her hands slowly followed his ribs, fingering the twitching muscles underneath the smooth skin and gripping his back, her legs locking around his waist, her pelvis following the slow rhythm he unconsciously set.  

  The more he moved in her, the more her low cries intensified. Her whimpers music to his hears as she moved in perfect harmony with him. Kenshin hissed, it was too much, she was too much. He kissed her shoulder, then bit it and soon after licked it soothingly, enticing more variants of her sweet love making cries. His pace grew more heretic, feeling something growing inside that would turn everything he had felt to mere caresses compared to it. Kaoru gasped and moaned, pushing against him, meeting each of his trust forcefully, and pulling both of them closer to their climax. Just a little bit more and they would be there.

"K..Ken… shin… don't… don't stop!"

  Each of her pleas, so desperate and sweet, were guiding him further into pleasure. With one powerful trust after another, they rose to the clouds, lost in bliss, oblivious to the worlds that surrounded them. And he was there, with one last push, he burst, his warmth filling her, her name rolling out of his mouth, and not so long after, she joined in, muffling her cry in the crock of his shoulder. Kenshin collapsed on her, exhausted, his mind still shock in the after glow. Kaoru kissed his cheek soothingly, caressing his hair, loving their silky feeling, wondering when the binding had come undone. He breathed against her ear and then lift his head, meeting her drowsy eyes.

"What… what have I done…?"

"You made love, Kenshin. You made love to me," she answered her voice soft and relaxed.

"I…" he was at a lost of words.

"Don't worry," she soothed, her hand caressing his scared cheek. "You did nothing wrong"

"Ka… Kaoru-dono…"

"There's nothing wrong in this Kenshin."

"No… it's… We must… We must leave."

  She stared at him, not quite understanding his words, and not sure if she was willing to. Deep indigo eyes searched through calm violets, soughing an answer of some sort. He kissed her gently, almost chastely, gathering her in his strong arms, embarrassing her body. Kaoru stared up at the ceiling, why must they leave?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued… … …_

_a/n: _I know, I know, I'm evil. But I have all the rights to be because it's my story. I hope you like it so far. I must say, I didn't planed it to turn that way. I really wanted to keep their love platonic and clean of all sexual material… but, well. I'm a believer in the saying that 'stories writes themselves' and this is where this story lead me to… By the way, if anyone is interested, I drew two fanarts for this fanfiction. If you want a look at it, just say so in your reviews and leave me you're e-mail and it'll be my pleasure to send you the piece of art! ^-^

KARYTA'S PERSONAL THANKING TO HER LOVELY REVIEWERS

Jason M. Lee: Well, I love to keep those things a bit unclear. What is Kenshin? Um… You got that part right about being immortal… but no, his no demon nor vampire. You'll find out soon enough though… well I hope so. Though I did left some pointers about it. What did she meant by not being pure? What do you mean when you say you're not pure but that you are not? ^-^ (jk) You'll know exactly what in the next chapter, along with many of your questions about Kaoru (such as what is she doing there, why is she not pure, why did she left some part of her past story untold and such). Just keep reading! I promises you it'll worth the wait!

omochi: Never said you should stop drinking those things… well, I did yeah, but that's me, not you… anyway. But they don't spit in it.. not that I know of anyway. It's just that chemical things are not my things. And with my anemia, I gotta check what I drink/eat unless I want to be sick. Hahaha, it's Matsu who made them. Once, she tried to make the dinner and Matsu would never let her do it again. She care for he kitchen way too much! Yeah, I know, I hate those assumptions, but really, I think Kenshin won't think the same in the next chappy… 

Tsuoi Kakarlena: No! Don't kill me! I just got into college and I wanna live through it! But that imaginary swords away from my imaginary self away! No… argh! (hehe xp)

emsdesire: Really? I remember doing that same thing for a few fanfictions out there… but I never knew someone would one day do the same for my fanfic! I feel important !^-^  Wah… Now I feel like I've got a big responsibility. I must keep it up so you won't ever be desapointed… that's gonna be hard cause I have a weird way to write stories… Believe.. I'm just as curious as you are as to what's gonna happen in this story.. And I'M the one writing it…Go figures… um… Rabid chumpmunks… That's kinda.. interesting… hehe. Maybe, just for you, I'll write a PWP one shot with rabid chipmunks.. (if I ever found out what the heck it is that is..hehe)

Amarome: Wordy? What d'you mean 'Wordy'? But thanks for the review! I really appreciate it.

Aerin-chan: Did I ever told you how much I would love to see Spain? Here we had to World's Youth 2003 and let me tell you… Spain guys are so hot! (ok, I should check my hormones a bit cause I'm 18 and those guys were around 15 up… but damn… they were cute!)  Really? You're figuring out what's going on? Cause you'd be about the first to realise it. I think I'm making too much mistery about what Kenshin really is and who Kaoru is… But, most of what Kaoru did, do and will do will be reviled in the next chapter, so keep reading! I guess many people has a very.. um… wild temper. I (thankfully) am not that moody. The only part of the day that no one can talk to me unless they have a death wish is the morning. I gotta eat something before been able to have a civilised converstation with anybody. It was a real pain back when I was in my old private high school. You know, when you have to have breakfast with so many people at the same time and wish you were still in bed and feels like tearing apart the next person that utters so much as a 'hello' to you it's not what I call a friendly meal… Ah well, we all have a bad points now do we? You can't cook, I'm not talkable in the morning. ^-^ (by the way, I'm sorry I didn't send you this chapter but it was so late and over due… So I'll send it to you first thing in the morning and when I'll get it back, I'll change it… is that ok with you?)

Jen: Yup… that girl was Kaoru… but you didn't get that information from me ok? ^-^ And about that virgin part… I think this chapter should answer that question better than any of my explanation. Hope you'll be less lost.. in any case, next chapter will answer most of your questions about Kaoru.

outsider: Thank you *blush, blush* Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like it! Your review just brighten my day! I felt like hugging and kissing every one I meat after reading such a nice coment! Here *hugs and kisses* for you. D'you want a rose too? Or maybe a piece of my strawberry short cake? The whole cake maybe! ^-^

Pinky: Thank you! You don't know how much this means to me.

Ladysilverdragon (aka proud American): I didn't took any ofance in your opinon. As I told you in my e-mail, you have all the rights to have yours and I perfectly understand why you would feel that way. But I will not get into that now will I. You're right though, I got myself to long reviews! And I appreciated it greatly. I love to know the opinon of other people and my offering of friendly talking is still laid down waiting for an answer. It's whenever you want. You seem like an interesting person, really! I'm looking forward to more words from you ^-^ (as long as its got nothing to do with war though… hehe). Kaoru out of character? I don't really think so… but keep in mind that this is an AU.. Characters are bound to be a bit OOC sometimes now don't they? I never though someone would realise I made her a prostitute. You're actually the first one to realise it. Be proud! I should give you a gift for finding it out. What do you think? Should I give a price to the next person who finds out just exactly what Kenshin is? ^-^ I said I may not make this a lemon.. it seemed that I have been wrong. It turned into one… Oh well, I think I'll have to live through it now that it's written… 

Female Hittokiri Battousai: Did you like you're review? I did enjoy reading that fanfic, hope you were happy. But really, I'm not that great of a writer. It's just because there are not many good stories around I guess (but yours are good. Just how many times will I have to tell you that before you understand it?) I love yah gurl!

Pffiw… That was long.. And to think I gotta get up early tomorrow… grrr… See you around guys and don't forget to review!!!


	10. Mid Tale: The Crossing Chapter one

Author's note: Hello everyone! Man, this story is getting longer than I thought it would be. But it's writing itself that way. The characters are developing in a way I had not planned. After so many chapters, there is still so many issues that I wish to go over. What had started as a short story supposed to be developed in a certain way, became an grander story with more twists that meant to be. Oh well, a bit of ranting so I can free my mind a bit. I started college two weeks ago! It's so much fun! I love school, I love to learn and I love philosophy! My teacher's great. A strange white haired man who has a fascination for the width and emptiness of the universe. He can rant about starts, planets and constellation forever. I love his classes. He is a very wise man. He has that light in his eyes that tells me that he still held some sort of fascination for our world and oddities. He also talks a lot about the 'Chock of Civilizations'. His classes are very interesting and I learn a lot out of him. Just as I had much respect for my strange Science teacher when I was in high school, I believe this man will be one of the many mentors I had in my life. Of course, I think this will have some repercussion in my writings. The more I learn, the more I want to share it. So, be prepared to witness some deep thinking and philosophical points of view. But, of course, this story was already going that way anyway. I just realized it now. ^-^

Special thanks: To merlock12 who had the patience to read this for at least four or five times so he could get as much mistakes out of it as he could. Thank you so much. By the way, I'm sorry for my computer's stupid behavior. That thing has something against me I'm sure. Or it really does want me to get to bed early 'and such'… sigh. 

Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue.

Warnings: Some choking revelation. This story was never meant for kids anyway.

Within Soul: Mid Tale

The Crossing

Chapter one

            "_Yes, we love peace, but we are not ready to take wounds for it, as we are for war."_

_                                                                                                          -John Andrew Holmes_

  Cold was not quite the word to describe the temperature; freezing to the point that your breath would turn into ice the moment it escaped your lips would be more like it. It was a cloudless night where the half moon shown brightly, lending the still vegetation, deprived of green of any kind, an eerie shadow that spread endlessly into the white coat that covered the ground. Without a word of explanation, Kenshin told Kaoru to dress quickly and pack what was only necessary. The crimson haired manslayer had kept silent throughout the entire ordeal, lost in deep reflection, his violet gaze a haze of purple mist each time she would try and peer into his mind. Soon after, they were stumbling across the freshly fallen snow, shivering for her part but not complaining. 

  As Kaoru's blue gaze observed Kenshin's hard back, she reflected upon the late events. Something had gone horribly wrong. Somehow, the rat had figured out what was going on, and even with her ability to extract truth from anyone, she had not been able to see this coming. Frost covered her shoulders, rendering her slim coat hard and cold, the material unable to keep in the warmth. She could sense the first symptoms of hypothermia, slowly losing the sensation at her extremities and drowsiness slipping in. Kenshin led the way, stoic, a characteristic the young woman had never once used to describe him as until now, and not once looking back. The couple headed north, the wind icy and merciless, burning their faces and shoving quantities of frosted flakes of snow. Walking becoming more difficult of a task with each step taken.

"We must find shelter," she suggested through shaking teeth. 

  A nod was her only answer. Sighing deeply, her pace was decreasing drastically, her legs finding it harder and harder to keep moving her body forward. It had been hours now that they left the warmth of the inn, cruelly missing its heat and comfort, their only companions the shining stars in the clear night sky. Kenshin, however, did not seem to even waver under the hard elements of winter, his pace even as his form seemed to grow farther in distance. From the woman's point of view, he seemed hallowed in darkness as the world around her grew slower, taking a dreamlike complexity. 

  Snow crisped under each taken step, the sound becoming the song of their march. Her world became narrow; all she could see was the warrior who seemed to get further away from her, the rest lost in shadow. She knew she would soon succumb to exhaustion, but pride only kept her going. The flakes, powdery on the ground, glittering under the soft silvery light of the night's guardian that shown above, seemed as inviting as a bed of smooth feathers. It would not be long before her fall, she knew this, if only winter were not so cold. Then, everything turned black, she was not even aware of falling, did not notice the cold snow as it touched her cheek, scraping the soft flesh raw.

  Kenshin heard a soft thump, paused for a moment before turning his head around, flaming mane caught in the icy wind. The distance between him and Kaoru had grown incredibly far, he noticed, and when his gaze grazed the heap that had become his female traveler, he rushed by her side. A delicate hand, once as white as the snow it had taken a fistful of, turned a scary frozen blue, long ebony hair sprawled like deep ink on the pure winter coat, her belongings by her side. He knelt beside her, eyes hidden under his scarlet locks, hands shaking he picked her up gently. Ripping his scarf from his neck, he wrapped it around her delicate one, trying to give her back some warmth in the detriment of his own. Scooping her up in his arm with surprising strength for such a modest build, he moved forward still.

  The next village was at eyesight, only a breath away from the ill-fated travelers, the first signs of exhaustion starting to manifest themselves. Feet dragging in the hard frost that covered the road, his breath turning into small puffs of clouds with each outtake, hugging his precious cargo to him, he kept marching forward. He reached the town's entrance as dawn came, the sky donning a cold purple robe. Empty streets and frosty breezes blowing snow to his frozen face met Kenshin. He needed rest and shelter, the latter coming in first priority but, judging by his condition, would be hard to find. Stumbling his way through the alley, his breath coming short and forces abandoning him, he carried on. However, even the strongest have their limits, and the manslayer had reached his own when he collapsed. Strong will alone can not overcome such cold. Not feeling his body, nor even aware of his fall, only the darkness that embraced him, he fell to the hard snowy road, still holding Kaoru protectively close. 

  He came around shortly after, his body completely numb. The girl's breathing seemed to have grown shallow, even rasp, and intermittent. He feared for her life more than he worried for his own. But his strength had escaped him, and all his efforts to return to his feet were in vain. He may lack the soul, but the body did work the same, and he had just reached his limit. Gripping the unconscious woman, if only what remained of his heat could provide her enough warmth to survive, Kenshin would die in peace, whatever death would give him. The assassin was not sure if death was something that would ever come to him. Frozen, bluish fingertips traced the outline of the young woman's face, not able to feel, he could only imagine how soft her skin was. Was she as cold as he was? With a stiff hand, he tried to feel her heart, but his senses were too frozen, and his only reassurance was her uneven breathing.

  As he thought the end was drawing near, footsteps crushed the snow in strong even fall, making the crisp frost crack under their foot. A snicker, mocking laughter, sneering and frustrating, echoed in the back of Kenshin's mind as well as in reality as the stranger walked closer to the couple. The hitokiri forced his eyes open, their purple iris glowing with sparks of amber, and through the mist of his vision, the tall frame of his life long enemy appeared, like a ghost from the past. 

"How the mighty have fallen," said the man, looking down at the frozen form on the street. 

"Sai…Saitou…" was Kenshin's feeble but venom dripping reply. 

"Missed me, Battousai?"

"Go.. to… hell."

"Nice to see you too," he mocked. "Why are you here? Fled from your responsibilities again?"

  Kenshin could not answer, not that he did not wish to, but his frozen limbs would net let him. His whole body stiff, what was left of his energy centered on warming Kaoru up the best he could. 

"I see you found yourself a whore."

"Sh…shut up!"

  There was a muffled laughter from the tall man towering the fallen travelers before he turned his back, his shoulders still trembling from his humorless hilarity. Looking over his shoulder, bright yellow eyes, just like that of a hungry wolf ready to strike his weaken prey, Saitou smirked at him evilly. He seemed to find some kind of sick pleasure out of his nemesis' deadly misfortune. 

"Be careful around here, he's out on the hunt again. Seems his sleep only lasted half a century this time. If I were you, I'd watch the girl's back as well. Remember, I was the one who promised your father to kill you."

"Not if… I found the way… out," Kenshin whispered, his forces fading.

"Humph… you're the only one still thinking about it," sneered Saitou walking away, his voice somehow defying the harsh wind and coming clear to the manslayer's ears. "Sometimes I wonder if you're not just plain stupid…"

   Time slipped as Kenshin drifted in and out of consciousness. It would not be long until the pain he was starting to feel would become unbearable and lead him to murderous action. As hope was slipping from his grasp, providence showed mercy on him once again when softer footsteps entered his mind along with a gasp of horror. It was all he could remember.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  It was warm, warmer than anything, so comfortable, so soothing; a soft hand on her forehead, calming her feverish body. Kaoru was wrapped tightly in a comfy blanket, that was as far as she could tell, along with the careful hand caressing her brows. Displeasure made her frown as a cold cloth was put on her head and a raspy hiss escaped her dry throat. She forced her eyes open, the light brighter than she remembered it, hitting her pupils as they dilated and contracted in self-defense, momentarily blinded. 

"Good afternoon, Kaoru-dono," whispered Kenshin.

"Afternoon?" said the girl after a fit of deep coughing. 

"You've slept for three day, that you did," amiably explained her companion. 

  Her blue eyes stared at him, their depth lost in some kind of haze, side effects of the high temperature that rushed through her veins. However, she was thankful that Kenshin was finally talking to her again, although she would have rather heard his voice clear of the worry that lingered there. Closing her eyes, her breathing labored but even once again, she tried to recall the events that brought her to this unknown room. But her mind left her in the dark, everything in between the sudden black out on the road to her awakening was foggy, if not completely blank. 

"How…"

"You fainted on our way here," stated the man understanding her question before she finished asking it. "A woman found us on the street of the village and brought us here with the help of her son. She is very kind, that she is."

  He did not tell her everything, did not wish to worry her further. Kaoru did not need to know that he went wild when he woke up two days ago, lurked outside the cold streets and slaughtered an innocent young man to regain the strength he had lost through their journey. Looking away from the young woman, feeling shameful and dirty, Kenshin kept his vigil on her until the shoji door softly slid open and a kind looking old woman entered the silent room, a jar of steaming ointment and her son in tow, a platter of food in his hands. The boy, barely reaching adulthood, was mildly built and timid looking. His short black hair veiling his dark eyes, always cast at the floor. It seemed that his coal orbs had seen more pain than joy, his shoulders and back arched as if wielding the weight of the world upon his fragile frame. 

"Is your wife alright?" asked the woman.

"She is not my wife, Suzumi-dono, that she is not."

"Oh… I'm sorry, but I found you curled around each other, I assumed you were." 

"It must have been confusing, that it must."

"Yes. Shizo, would you please give the food to Himura-san?"

  Said boy bowed his head and padded uncertainly toward the man kneeling next to the convalescent beautiful young woman. Stealing a glance at her face and blushing softly, he put the meal next to the manslayer and quickly returned to his old mother's side. Suzumi shook her head, not liking her son's behavior but knowing she could do nothing to change it. Kneeling next to Kaoru on the opposite of Kenshin, she pulled back the blankets and was about to open the young woman's yakuta before she gave the two men a glance that said more than words. Nodding, Kenshin got up and walked to the door, looking one last time at the sick girl, he stepped out, but Shizo did not seem to have caught his mother's look for he stayed in place, looking at the matriarch's hands in pure wonder, curious to know what she was about to do.

"Shizo, unless you want to see this young woman naked, I suggest you leave," said Suzumi after clearing her throat suggestively. 

  The boy blushed furiously, the color of his face trying to rival Kenshin flaming mane, rushed out the door and closed it. Himura regarded the young man with a sense of bemusement laced with cold observation. Throughout the three days he had spent in this home, Shizo had not spoken a word to his mother or him. He was starting to wonder if the boy was mute, but he seemed to understand words just as well as normal people. Something terrible must have happened in the past to cause such a strange reaction. What had those dark eyes witnessed? 

  Shizo played with the hem of his sleeves for a while before turning his back to Kenshin and walking away toward the kitchen which was at the total opposite part of the house. Having nothing better to do, and feeling very curious, the Ishin Shishi followed, replacing his katana back at his waist. They sat in silence at the low table, the boy finding his hand ever so interesting and Kenshin simply observing him in awkward silence. Finally growing tired of this nonsense, he tried to make some conversation, but not being someone who would usually talk, he found himself as clumsy with words as someone who had never tried talking before.

"So… what was in that jar your mother brought?"

  Shizo looked up to Kenshin face, looking at his chin, avoiding any eye contact and just shook his head. Sighing, Kenshin understood that this would lead them nowhere. Maybe the boy would talk when the time would come. Whenever that time may be. 

  Back in the room, Suzumi had undressed Kaoru's chest and was applying the strongly smelling ointment over her throat and down to the base of her lungs. The young woman opened her eyes and was met with the old woman's rich browns. Confusion clouded her face. The woman gave her a warm smile, still engrossed in her healing task, and spoke softly.

"You were lucky child. I don't know how long you have been out under that snowstorm, but it's almost a miracle how you survived this long. You'll be up and around in a few days. You just need some rest."

"Where… Kenshin?"

"He left a moment ago with my son. You don't want them to see you bare chest now, do you?" explained the older woman.

"I.. don't think… it would make much difference… one more or less…" Her voice was strained, tired, weary, as if on the brink of death.

"Now, why say such things?" asked Suzumi as she redressed her patient. 

  Kaoru uttered a mirthless small laugh that turned into a fit of coughing, wreaking her chest and lit a fire within her lungs. Turning her head to the left, she stared at the paper wall glowing red with the gentle glow of the oil lamp that brought light to the small room. Her mind was in total confusion, her memories mixing to create nightmarish scenes. Trying to chase the images away, she shut her eyes, but it seemed that this action brought in more horrific memories of pain and mental torture. Fighting her tears, she uttered, her voice barely audible to the old woman. 

"I need to speak with Kenshin, please tell him to come," she pleaded.

"Of course child," And after a moment she added, "Who is he to you? Your fiancé? Your friend?"

"It's… complicated…" 

  Suzumi only nodded, wrapping the blanket back around the girl, she got up and left. When she found the two men, she was met with tensed silence and heavy atmosphere. How she wished her son would speak again. It pained her deeply to see him that way. He had been like this for over a year, ever since he came back from the battle that had rubbed her of her beloved husband. Sighing, she entered.

"Himura-san, Kaoru-san wishes to speak with you."

  Thankful of finally leaving Shizo and his dark silence, Kenshin got up and bowed respectfully to his hostess before returning to the small room. When he entered, he found the young woman asleep once again. Her pale face, redden by her fever, had a painful expression, her breathing rasp and uneven as she was swamped in a nightmare. His soft lavender eyes traced her beautiful features wrapped in warm material. His feelings toward that enigmatic young woman were more than confusing. Never before had he felt such a powerful need to protect, such possession and passion that burned so deeply inside. It was pleasurable and painful all at once. 

  He wished he could free her mind of worries and horror, erase her past and make a bright future. However, conscious of what he was, he knew he could never bring her happiness. It would be impossible, unless he found a soul of his own; he could never be by her side. Tracing the arch of her brows with a trembling finger, he tried to, at least, appease her mind. She moaned, writhed for a second and then settled into deep, dreamless slumber. He bent down and brushed his lips over her hot forehead, massaging his thumb over the imaginary mark of brief affection. Kenshin moved to sit back to the wall, his sword resting on his shoulder, habit of many warriors, and closed his eyes, willing to give his body some rest. His thoughts with Kaoru, he fell to the darkness of his sleep, wishing that, for once, he could dream too. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  She awoke later that night, her mind feeling less confused and fogged than it had been earlier that day. The sun had set and the wind was chanting eerily outside, blowing ice and cold over the small village. She wondered how much time had slipped by since she had requested her talk with Kenshin, and found herself pondering if he came at all. Since the event that had brought them to this place, the man had not uttered a word about it. She had figured that the rat had found out about her. It would explain Kenshin's presence in her room that night. However, she had no clue as to why he had not killed her. As a part of the Ishin Shishi, she knew what Kenshin's role in the organization was and knew he killed no matter what or who. What had made him back out, why had he shown mercy on her? What would become of them now? They had fled like thieves in the middle of the night. Would they try to kill him? Would they think him a spy? Would they think he was the rat?

"Kenshin…"

"Yes?"

  His answer had been so soft; she thought the wind had spoken it. Then, his purple orbs shown gently above her head and she smiled weakly to his handsome face, lifting a heavy hand to touch his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned in, his lids shutting lazily, sighing and covering her warm head with his own.

"Kenshin… there are things you must know…" she whispered.

"I know," his said, his eyes closing tighter in worry it seemed, although she was not sure.

"I'm not the rat…" she offered as if it explained it all. "You may not believe me, but, I was faithful to Ishin Shishi."

"What exactly were you doing in the inn?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

"I… Remember when I told you my father was killed because he knew things?" He nodded and she kept explaining, turning her face away from his. "He was a spy for them, looking for moles and rats that may compromise the organization. He was not careful enough and got killed. I found his journal a few months after his death and discovered everything. I was young and in grief, I wanted to avenge or at least help. I looked almost all over Japan for the name my father had written about, Katsura Kogoro. It… was harder than I thought… and I had to do things…" Then her voice broke.

  Kenshin opened his eyes to see Kaoru's painful expression, barely able to keep the tears in, her left hand taking a fistful of the material that covered the part of her chest where her heart was. Her right hand slipped down his face to cover her mouth, trying to mute the sobs that tore through her. He felt helpless, watching her in mental agony.

"You don't have to say everything…" he murmured, feeling maybe just as throbbing as she was.

"No… I must… just… listen." She regain enough of her composure to speak again, the words cracking now and than, her story as painful as a thousand deaths. "I… traveled long and ran out of money after being…. rubbed and… rapped. I was only thirteen, still a little girl, had no home, no family, only a the name of man I was not even sure existed. I… needed the money, I was hungry, often cold. So… I did what I could. What else were there for me to do? I… sold my belongings first. The only thing I could keep was my mother's ribbon and my father's journal, everything else were sold. But it was not enough. I had just turned fourteen when, knowing I had nothing to lose anymore because it had been stolen from me a year ago… I started to sell myself." She closed her eyes, reliving the painful moment, a tear escaping the helm of her eyes sliding sadly down her soft cheek to be lost in the beddings. "I think I was in Aizu at that time, but I'm not so sure anymore. Katsura-san had a geisha friend, I was just a street girl, trying to survive the best I could. My last client had beaten me and did not pay me and left me in the street to die alone. She found me, tend to my wounds and I confessed everything to her. I needed someone to talk to, someone who could understand, at the time, she was the closest thing I could have to a friend. She introduced me to Katsura-san, and he took me in, brought me to Kyoto. I spent two years working for Matsura-san with no words of him and then, he sent me a letter telling me that my real work would start." She took a pose, taking a deep breath and resumed. "It was easy at first, nothing too complicated, listening to the men when they thought I was not. But soon, I had to do those things again. It's unbelievable the things a man can tell a woman in the passion of the moment."

the     (_no _"a")

money;

raped

Does "rubbed" mean "assaulted", or some such? Or did you mean "robbed", as in thieves?

  was

            journal. Everything else was

myself." She

  


  And she could not talk anymore, the words would just not form, it was too painful. It hurt inside, it hurt outside, the pain was all over her body, shocking with the force of her sobs, the tearing sound of her cries echoing on the walls. A sad song of lost innocence, the price of survival. Women may be seen as the weak kind, fragile and breakable to many men, to humanity, to the world. Some said that they had no souls, did not deserve any statue, but Kaoru… She was strong, stronger than any man would ever be. Courageous, brave, a true warrior. From that moment, Kenshin would never see her the same way he had. She looked even more beautiful, glowing almost. Life can not be compared to another. Each person has their own path, their on share of suffering, of pain; she had more than any he knew. Pain can't be compared either. People feel differently, react in different way when faced with such events. To kill so one survive, or hurt yourself to keep living, no comparison, two sides completely different of life, and yet, here they were, both sharing a fate that, somehow, had joined together. Following a hazardous road that held more suffering then pleasure. 

   Overwhelmed in strong feelings that did not have name, even to this day, he embraced her as tightly as he could. Caressing her long black hair, giving her the shoulder to cry on, the confidant she had craved for, the soothe she had been unconsciously longing for. So many lost, her world had collapsed so many times, and life never gave her the time to rebuild. And still, she had smiled to him, she had opened her arms, her mind and her heart to him. Accepting sin, accepting his darkness, his loath, tried to make him feel better. She loved him, made him see such beauty he would have burst. Such selflessness, Kaoru had given up on the joy of life, of being normal, given up her purity, what made her what she was, became someone else, and yet, she smiled, held on to life. He only sought destruction, an end to his pain, his misery, while she had been looking for the solution, the way out, survived. He knew now, he knew without a doubt, that those feelings he could not name a few days ago, this passion that made him whole so suddenly, that he loved her. Loved what she was, what she is and what she will be, totally and completely. Her, and no one else. 

"Kaoru…" he whispered.

  How could he ever tell her how much he admired her, respected her. Between the two of them, he knew now who was the stronger. No man, however sharp and long their sword can be, or skillful in wielding it, could be as strong as she was. No man, as righteous minded or pure hearted, could be as beautiful and true as she was. No one, even with the bravest spirit and most noble of ambition, could have her courage. And all he could do was hold her tight, breath her name, kiss her head and soothe her. She fell asleep, not knowing how great his esteem was if her. 

  Her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, her breathing ticking his neck, her hand resting gently above his beating heart, she slept, peacefully. Lost in deep thoughts, Kenshin stayed awake through the length of the night, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling like some primitive religious ceremony, the wind their music and the moon the fire they swayed around. The even rise and fall of her chest became the rhythm that calmed his mind. He reminisced of his past, the many deaths that covered the path behind him in blood and guilt. The many faces he met, the years that drifted away slowly, the pain engraved in his veins, the agony of a throbbing mind that knew no rest until recently. Suddenly, he could see the light he had been looking for, a path, a way to get rid of his load. After centuries, he realized what he had been looking for was not concrete; nothing material could fill the emptiness that his lack of soul had left inside of him. It was something that no words could describe; it was something that no one could name. Maybe, he will find his soul and become mortal and end his circle of death, end his pain and embrace the future. But for the moment, Kaoru needed help, needed joy, needed rest. He was willing to give it to her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be continued………_

_a/n__: _Now, some of you may have seen it coming, other must be very surprised. I thought it was obvious, but of course, I'm the author, so I know what my characters are, so what is obvious to me may not be to my readers. I thought I was not good in subtlety, but with all the questions about what Kaoru is, I guess I was wrong. I hope you enjoyed. We're getting closer to the 100th review!!! I can't believe it! I'm so excited. This fanfiction is starting to attract some attention. I'm glad you people seem to like my strange way of writing. 

KARYTA'S PERSONAL THANKING TO HER LOVELY REVIEWERS (I think the title changes every chapter… oh well, you get the point and that's what matters)

Jason M. Lee: Um… more like a lime? I thought I had made it pretty graphic, at least it was to my point of view. Hope some of your questions got their answers, and about Kaoru's 'stalker' you won't know about it until the time comes. Sorry bout that, but I've got to keep my punches for the final!

emsdesire: About the rabid chipmunks… I'm not even sure what they are.. hehe. As you said, it turned a way I was not even expecting. You know, I know the big lines of this story, but it seem that it wants to go a way I just had not planed… oh well, I'm just as curious as you are as to how this will become… Can you believe it?

Aerin-chan: My… what perspicacity! You're about the only one who guest it right! I know it's strange, but I remember a fanfic I read some time ago where Kaoru was a prostitute, but I can't remember the title, silly me. But to be honest, I don't like when people describes her as a little angel. I believe it takes her fiery personality away in a way. I'm sorry about the editing thing, someone else purposed and is doing it for me. (he's doing quite a good job at it too).  About Kenshin and Kaoru's 'stalker', as many named him, those questions will get their proper answer in time. Just not yet. Be patient please. Thanks for the cake, you know how much I love those things. ^-^

Vinmy fer: Have I sent you the fan arts? I don't remember… If I did, I hope you liked'em. Thank you for reviewing. 

Bunny / Sailor Moon: You know.. I'm kind of wondering too what will happen next.. hehe.

omochi: I guess it's a good way to distract someone… but I know a few other ways too. Anwyway.

Michelle: Kaoru was aware of Kenshin's role, but that's a secret between you and me. ^-^

star-crystals: Thank you very much. I'm glad my choice of word doesn't feel confusing when you read them. I was wondering sometimes if people understood what I meant to say. I easily get carried away when I start some description, and I tend to forget that my characters can talk… hehe. I'm glad the chapters are long too, but I only realize how long they are when I post them. As I told you, I tend to get a bit carried away by my thoughts… oh well, as long as you like it, I guess this isn't that bad. ^-^

Lady E1: I used to care how many review I would get. I was a popular author on the other fandom I wrote about (ccs) and when I started writing about RK, I thought I would get as much. But when I started this fic, I just loved the story too much to actually care. But of course, reviews are always welcome. I like some feedback. You'll know exactly why they had to leave pretty soon. I think in the next chapter. Thank you very much. Give you a piece of my cheese cake. 

JJ: Thank you, you'll know why as soon as the issue comes in the story. Be patient!

are-en1: You actually re-read it?! Wow… THANK YOU!!! I hope this chapter answered some of your questions. I'm sorry I can't give all the answers, I wish I could, but then, I couldn't write anymore! But I don't think Tomoe is going to she her emotionless face around here. Not that I don't like her. But I just can't make her fit in here. 

kenshin'sgrl: err… ok… thank for the review.

aglaia102: Thanks for the review and of course I'll finish this. I'm not one of those author who gets this far in a story and then just stops… that would be stupid, because I love the story!

Thank you everyone! Next chapter will be out in some times. But if it's not out in less then a month, you have the right to be angry at me. Oh, and the 100th review will get a little surprise… I don't know what it will be yet, but there will be a surprise!

See you around!


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